


Catch A Wave

by Esperata



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Broadly Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Season/Series 01, Self-Acceptance, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-02 06:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 32,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17259056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata
Summary: Soulmarks exist to make recognising your ideal partner easier. At least they would if you're prepared to re-imagine what your ideal partner might be.In which Trip is oblivious and Malcolm is long suffering.





	1. Broken Bow

[](https://imgbb.com/)

Trip had plenty of call to be nervous. He was meeting his future crew mates after all. The people he’d be living and working with up to five years while nursing and fine tuning his warp 5 baby. The need to make a good impression was therefore important.

Unless he met his future soulmate of course. Then any possibility of working together would be vetoed but…

His heart thundered at the idea that he might step into the room and actually meet _the one._ It was a scenario he’d imagined over and over from the time his mama first told him what the markings on his hand meant.

He took a moment to trace the pattern now, the familiar action calming his excitement and anxiety. The graceful curve upwards, the sudden drop down – each peak and trough a little higher than the ones before. He’d always liked the way it appeared from the edge of his wrist bone and made its way smoothly across to where it disappeared into the crease of his thumb join.

Some people had complicated markings or plain splodges but his was elegant in its simplicity. When he was young he’d thought it looked rather like those heart rate monitors on hospital programmes. Then he’d discovered warp theory and realised it was just like a warp scale graph.

He often joked now that it proved he was born to be an engineer but the romantic in him was still looking for the fairytale. The happily ever after as he swept some pretty little thing into his arms, just like every true love tale he’d ever heard.

Taking a deep breath he set his shoulders and moved into the room, ready to welcome his future.

Several people glanced his way, gaze registering his face and insignia before dropping down to glance at his hand. He was quietly pleased to note a few looks of disappointment as they clearly processed his dissimilar mark. Before he could begin his own circuit of the room though he saw a familiar face heading his way and grinned.

“Trip!”

“Jon.” He reached out to grip his friend’s hand before noticing his companion.

“Commander Charles Tucker the Third.” Jon introduced him. “This is our Vulcan First Officer, courtesy of Ambassador Soval, T’Pol.”

“Call me Trip.” He smiled and extended a hand.

She stared down at it intently before turning to Captain Archer.

“It would be more efficient to take recordings of the crew’s marks and use the computer to cross reference them.”

Trip withdrew his hand and shot a bemused look to Jon who gave him a long suffering look back.

“Probably, yes,” he agreed. “Except that’s not the only purpose of this get together. I want to give the crew a chance to see who they’ll be working with. Hopefully pick up on any personality conflicts before we start.”

“An acceptable aim.” T’Pol conceded. “Although it is doubtful one evening will adequately display any potential disagreements.”

“I dunno,” Trip drawled. “Some people just get right up your nose from the get go, you know?”

T’Pol frowned.

“Do you mean to imply some people have offensive odours?”

Jon and Trip both had to awkwardly hide their laughter and T’Pol continued uninterrupted. “If so, I would suggest you utilise a nasal numbing agent as I do when dealing with humans.”

“Perhaps,” Jon had to struggle to regain control of his voice. “That’s something we could discuss with Doctor Phlox?”

He gestured T’Pol away before shooting Trip a final amused grin. Spirits lifted Tucker turned his attention back to the room at large and began making his rounds.

He deliberately started by greeting his engineering crew, regardless of gender, and wasn’t at all upset not to find his match here. After all, his ideal partner probably wasn’t going to be someone he’d want to work with. If there was one thing he’d learned over the years it was that, no matter how much he might have thought it would be great to date someone as keen as him on engines – it really wasn’t.

His crew all seemed to be good people though, as you’d expect from Earth’s first warp 5 starship, and he quickly moved on reassured that his engine would be in good hands.

In actual fact, it didn’t take him long to complete his circuit of the room. Excluding himself, Archer and T’Pol, there were only about 80 crew people and most of them were gathered into relevant departments or ranking groups.

Except one individual who Tucker noticed stood almost out of sight against the wall seemingly just surveying the crowd.

Trip had to do a double take as his eyes registered the petite form and he thought ‘she looks interesting’ before his brain kicked into gear and he realised it was a guy.

Shaking his head at his own ridiculousness, he wandered over. The approach drew the man’s attention and Trip found himself subject to intense scrutiny from a pair of pale eyes.

He glanced instinctively down to see the man’s mark only to remember that the man had his arms crossed. Not that he expected to find his match with a man but it was second nature really.

“Yer gonna have ta show it at some point,” he drawled, deliberately exaggerating his accent, curious to see what reaction he’d get.

“Not necessarily,” a clipped voice answered that Trip identified as British. “Captain Archer was only interested in matching symbols.”

“Ah.” Trip smirked. “So you’re eyeing the females and seeing if there’s any you’d _like_ to match up with?”

A calculating gaze met this statement.

“Something like that.” A hand was extended Trip’s way. “Lieutenant Reed.”

Trip automatically caught the hand in his and shook.

“Commander Charles Tucker the Third.” He saw grey eyes widen at the distinguished sounding name. “But most people call me Trip.”

The Englishman huffed in amusement and dropped his eyes. Trip followed the gaze and felt his own eyes widen. The pattern that disappeared at his own thumb now continued on over the lieutenant’s hand.

“I’ll be damned,” he muttered, twisting the hand in his to check.

“They look the same.” The British voice sounded softer.

Trip shook his head firmly though and released the captive hand.

“Can’t be,” he declared. “I’m not into guys. Real similar though.”

The Lieutenant stared at him and had just opened his mouth to reply when Captain Archer breezed up beside them.

“Trip. I see you’ve met Malcolm.” He caught the air of tension about them and frowned. “Is there a problem?”

“No problem sir,” Malcolm dutifully responded, falling into a standard at ease posture.

“Just comparing marks,” Trip added.

“Oh?” Archer turned his inquisitive gaze onto Malcolm. “I haven’t seen yours yet Lieutenant.”

“It’s a pattern of waves,” he answered the implicit question without removing his hands from behind his back.

“Waves,” Archer echoed, turning his gaze onto Trip and arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Trip agreed. “Real similar to mine but not the same. At all.”

Archer cast his glance between his two officers. One fidgeting and one statue still.

“Just to be clear, there’s no issue with them actually matching? Because you know Starfleet have been very specific…”

“None at all,” Trip replied decisively. “Definitely not.”

Archer cast his gaze to the lieutenant. Fond as he was of Trip, he knew better than to trust the man in these sorts of matters. He’d swear circles were squares if the girl was pretty enough and Jon knew how much Trip wanted to be on this crew.

“I assure you captain,” Malcolm answered smoothly. “There is no chance of the commander and I being anything other than efficient work colleagues.”

Jon nodded, satisfied with that. Part of him knew he should insist on seeing the marks himself but he desperately wanted both officers on board. Malcolm was by far the most proficient Tactical Officer he could wish for and no-one knew these engines like Trip Tucker.

He just hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.


	2. Fight Or Flight

“What the hell was that?” Trip frowned at the screen in confusion as beside him Jon chuckled.

“Oh, number eight on Texas just fouled one of my boys. He’s going to be ejected for twenty seconds.”

“Is that fair?” Trip complained. “It gives you guys an advantage.”

“Well, that’s the point,” Jon explained watching in amusement as Trip continued to look bemused.

“I didn’t know it was such a rough game.”

“Think of it as one part basketball, one part swimming and one part wrestling.” He passed another drink across.

“And I thought it was just a bunch of guys screwing around in a pool,” Trip muttered before accepting the glass with a smile. “I can see how you can get hooked on this.”

“Thanks for thinking of it.”

“Well,” Trip leant back magnanimously. “You’ve been threatening to teach me the finer points of the game ever since we met.”

Archer nodded in agreement, taking another swallow as he pulled out the computer slide. He’d suspected he might be able to sway Trip into following water polo and was glad to have someone he could share this interest with. However Trip wasn’t just on board as his friend.

“While you’re here, I wanted to get your feedback on the crew.”

“Thought that was the First Officer’s job?” he said faux innocently.

Archer shot him a look.

“Believe me, T’Pol isn’t hesitant about reporting on the crew’s efficiency. What I want to know is how they’re adjusting to life in space.”

“This ‘bout Hoshi?”

It was no secret that Hoshi was having trouble transitioning to a life as an explorer. Her first trip off ship hadn’t helped any considering that they’d essentially found a floating morgue to investigate.

Jon fixed his gaze on the blank screen as he contemplated his reply.

“I’m keeping an eye on Hoshi,” he admitted. “But I think she’ll be okay. Even T’Pol thinks she has the potential to be a fine officer. When she finds her space legs.”

Trip ducked his head. He liked Hoshi, he really did, but he wasn’t sure this mission was the best thing for her. Still he held his tongue, trusting Jonathan knew the linguist better than him.

“I notice she don’t have a mark,” he commented instead. “She a-spec?”

Jon shook his head.

“No. That’s part of the reason she was willing to accept this assignment. Its likely she’s one of the humans destined to find their soul match with an alien.”

“Huh.” Trip glanced to his indelible mark. “Not sure I’d like that uncertainty.”

Across from him Archer huffed in amusement.

“You find your own uncertainty,” he challenged. “How many times did you try and convince Ruby your symbols were really the same? I seem to remember you drew in extra lines at one point.”

“Worth a shot.” Trip shrugged unconcernedly.

Archer shook his head in smiling disbelief before prompting the conversation back on track.

“What about the other senior crew?”

“I don’t trust T’Pol.”

“Do you have any basis for that?”

“Apart from the fact Soval ordered her to watch us? Nah.” Trip waved his outburst aside. “I don’t think she’ll do anything to damage us. I just…”

“Don’t think she’ll pass up an opportunity to report on any mistakes,” Jon concluded. “I agree.”

“Phlox seems cheerful enough though.”

“Yes.” Jon smiled. “I think he’ll be a valuable addition.”

“So’s Travis,” Trip put in. “He knows all kinds of things ‘bout space travel they don’t put in the manuals.”

“I’m sure our space boomer will be helpful in reassuring Hoshi too,” Jonathan suggested before adding, “And how about Malcolm?”

“Malcolm?” Trip repeated.

“Lieutenant Reed,” Archer translated. “How’s he fitting in with the crew?”

Trip glanced down to the glass in his hands and shrugged.

“Don’t really know,” he admitted. “Our paths ain’t crossed much.”

Archer frowned.

“Trip. You’re both department heads. I expect you to be on better terms than that.”

“Hey. Its not my fault. He don’t talk much to anyone outside the armoury.”

“And you’re the senior officer Commander,” Jon reminded him. “You were going to be First Officer too because I trusted you to be a good morale officer.” He frowned. “There isn’t a problem between you and Malcolm is there?”

“How can there be a problem when we don’t talk?”

“There can be a problem _because_ you don’t talk,” Jon insisted. “In fact-” he reached out and plucked Trip’s drink from his hand. “I think you should go talk to him now.” As Trip opened his mouth to object, he added sharply, “That’s an order Commander.”

Sullenly, Trip got to his feet and, with a final irritated glance, he stepped out.

It wasn’t that he’d been avoiding the lieutenant exactly, he reflected, just that there had been no need to approach him and he’d felt awkward about trying to be friendly. He didn’t want to give the wrong impression.

But, as he headed away from the captain’s quarters, he did have to admit the man had a point. It was a five year mission. They needed to establish some kind of compatible working relationship. He straightened his uniform and smoothed out his expression before ringing at Reed’s room.

The door opened to reveal Malcolm in casual workout clothes, his usually strictly ordered hair damp and spiky from a recent shower. He was also clearly surprised to see Tucker.

“Commander.” He shifted awkwardly in a nervous gesture Trip hadn’t anticipated. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked cautiously.

Tuckers had never been the type to beat around the bush and the beer he’d drunk with the captain relaxed any sense of caution he might have possessed.

“We gotta work together Lieutenant.” He kept his tone formal but offered a polite smile. “I figured we should get to know each other better.”

Malcolm offered a smile in reply.

“Get to know each other better?” he echoed. “If you’re referring to our soulmarks-”

Trip felt a surge of panic and raised his hands to halt the other man.

“No!”

Malcolm blinked at him and Trip quickly lowered his hands.

“I told you, even if they were alike, I’m not interested in guys. Never have been. Never will be.”

Malcolm’s friendly attitude vanished and the lieutenant instead folded his arms.

“Well, I _am_ gay but I have to admit you really aren’t my type either. I prefer rather more cultured people.”

Trip grit his teeth.

“Look, I don’t care what your preferences are. Fact is though, we got to work together.”

“With all due respect Commander, I don’t see how our working relationship has any bearing on our personal relationship. And I frankly have better uses for my time than pandering to your ‘all friends together’ management style.”

“Hey. I was just trying to be friendly.”

“I’m not out here to make friends. I’m here to do my duty.”

“That’s just as well ‘cause you don’t seem all that good at the making friends thing.”

Malcolm glared.

“If you have a complaint about my work feel free to raise it with the captain. Otherwise I suggest we’re probably better off not interacting all that much.”

“That’s fine with me.”

Malcolm took a step back inside his quarters.

“Goodnight Commander.”

Trip didn’t even manage a single syllable before the door slid shut. He bit his cheek and held back from thumping the door in annoyance. Then his anger melted away leaving frustrated disappointment.

“Shit,” he murmured.


	3. Strange New World

Trip cast his glance around as he waited for his drink. He hadn’t had dinner in the mess for a while and he felt a little out of place. Not half as awkward as he would have felt sitting with T’Pol though.

He was still embarrassed over the incident. Calling her a traitor, holding a phase pistol to her head – no matter the catalyst, it was his own feelings that were brought unceremoniously to the fore. He was supposed to be a Starfleet officer. If he couldn’t deal with his own mistrust of Vulcans how would he deal with truly alien cultures?

Making his way to an empty seat he noticed the familiar groups sat together. Members of his own engineering team were chatting happily and he felt a momentary pull to join them before realising it may not be welcome. They were all quite relaxed with him but he was still their boss. It was never quite the same when you knew your boss was listening in while off duty.

His eye fell on Lieutenant Reed sitting with ensigns Mayweather and Sato and he frowned. Why was the lieutenant sitting with his subordinates? Hadn’t he made it plain he wasn’t here to make friends? Then Trip recalled they were a team on the bridge. That probably gave them a sense of camaraderie or at least meant it was sensible to form bonds.

Staring at his own plate he speared some potato morosely. After their time on the planet Trip felt he might have been welcomed by Travis. He was technically part of the bridge crew too yet he knew Reed would not accommodate him so readily as the ensigns. And the last thing he wanted to do was give the man an opportunity to berate him for his paranoia.

He glared at the back of the man’s head. _He’d_ tried to be friends. Why was it the lieutenant would relax enough to unwind with the others but would turn glacial at his arrival?

The chattering group from the next table moved away and Trip found himself unintentionally eavesdropping on the trio.

“I know what I heard,” Hoshi was insisting. “She really thought he was going to shoot her.”

“The whole situation was tense,” Reed reasoned. “Its natural you may have transferred some of your anxiety onto the Sub Commander.”

“Its not that. She didn’t sound scared. Her choice of language was indicative of a perilous situation.”

“I still don’t believe the Commander would have shot her,” Reed commented softly. “He just doesn’t seem to have that sort of violence in him.”

“You weren’t there,” Travis maintained. “It was intense. That pollen really did a number on all of us.” He shook his head. “I feel like such an idiot.”

“It was hardly your fault,” Reed assured him.

“I know. But I’m the one with the supposed experience out here. Yet I was just as naïve as everyone else once we stepped on terra firma.”

“Of course you are. No one expects you to know every problem we may encounter. Its _my_ job to anticipate those.”

“You can’t anticipate _everything._ ”

“Yeah. Don’t blame yourself,” Travis added. “I guess we all still have a lot to learn.”

“Well. At least no permanent harm was done.”

Trip kept his head down as Reed led the others away but then cast a swift glance at his retreating back. It seemed he wasn’t the only one left feeling a fool after their recent excursion. He could understand Travis sharing his embarrassment but Reed’s parting remark caught him by surprise. It sounded very like he was agreeing to disagree with the ensigns.

While it was true that the lieutenant was head of security for the ship, surely he couldn’t think that meant he was responsible for every idiotic thing the crew did? Not even the captain took on that level of responsibility. He trusted the crew to be responsible for themselves.

Maybe that was Malcolm’s problem though – he didn’t trust his shipmates. Trip could scarcely imagine what that must be like. He’d often been called too trusting but he’d much rather go through life expecting the best of people rather than anticipating the worst.

What had any of them done to deserve that mistrust? Excepting T’Pol, they’d all been carefully selected for this mission. And even the Vulcan had proven herself worthy of their trust.

Unless, he mused, it was something in the man’s past that made him preternaturally wary. Not exactly a bad quality for a tactical officer but a worrying trait in a friend. There hadn’t been much information in the man’s records for Trip to make a judgement. In fact, the files seemed to be unusually sparse for such a highly recommended officer.

He blinked abruptly as he realised he’d been tracing his soulmark and he deliberately flattened his palms on the table. His eyes lingered on the pattern though as he recalled their altercation.

He’d assumed in the aftermath that the lieutenant was determined to hold himself apart from everyone, at least to a degree. However, seeing him talking so casually with Travis and Hoshi forced Trip to reconsider that. Obviously the man was specifically wary of relaxing around him. And given the way Trip had snapped at him, he couldn’t blame him.

Trip sighed to himself. Archer had asked him to build bridges and instead he’d thrown stones. He winced as a new thought struck him – Malcolm might even have got the impression that he was homophobic. Was it any wonder then that the man avoided him?

Well, Trip couldn’t let things continue under that misunderstanding. Standing decisively he hurried out and headed towards the armoury. As the lift deposited him on the right floor he strode towards the lieutenant’s domain determined to at least restore civility between them. A quick glance showed him his assumption was right as he saw Reed stood peering at some readouts.

“Lieutenant.”

There was an unmistakable stiffening of the spine before Reed turned to him.

“Commander?”

Trip cast a glance round to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard as he approached. While he appreciated the public area to prevent a scene, he didn’t particularly want to be the subject of any gossip.

“I thought I oughta make an effort to clear the air between us,” he offered.

“I’m sure that’s not necessary.”

“Seems necessary to me. Look,” he exhaled heavily. “I’m not saying we have t’ be best buddies but I want you to know I’ve got your back. I respect you as an officer and I’ve got no objection to you on a personal level either. So perhaps we can start over?” He held out his hand hopefully.

Malcolm cast a brief glance to it before focusing on his face.

“Do you want me to be honest?” he asked.

Trip withdrew his hand and nodded cautiously.

“I find your happy go lucky attitude disconcerting,” he was told bluntly. “Its likely to get you in trouble sooner rather than later.”

Trip opened his mouth to object only to be overridden.

“But… I _will_ have your back.” Malcolm’s gaze looked at him with some consternation. “I may not understand it but even I can see that your attitude is beneficial to crew morale.”

“Guess that’ll have to be good enough for now.”

“I think it’s the best we can hope for. In the circumstances.”

Trip nodded to that, pleased at least to have avoided another argument.

“Then I’ll let you get on with yer work. See you around Lieutenant.”

He cast a vague wave over his shoulder as he turned to leave. Before he actually got very far though he heard a muttered, “Not if I see you first” and couldn’t quite restrain his grin.


	4. Unexpected

Usually Trip didn’t like being confined to sickbay. He got fidgety and irritable without something to occupy himself with. Right now it felt like a sanctuary though.

Of all the things he might have expected to happen on this mission, falling pregnant wasn’t one of them. He was still trying to process the reality of that.

Initially it had felt as if he’d been parasitized. This _thing_ was growing on him, drawing its life from him, changing the very reactions of his body so he hardly recognised himself. And to make it worse all his crewmates, his friends, thought it was the result of his own over indulgence. No-one seemed to believe him when he said he’d done nothing untoward.

Which was the first of the reasons he was happy to stay in sickbay. Though the doctor had also concluded it was his own fault, he at least acknowledged it wasn’t the typical human indiscretion but simple ignorance and lack of caution. Once he’d admonished his patient he let it drop.

The second reason Trip was grateful to be away from the others was harder to explain. It was because he felt a sense of almost bereavement now the pregnancy was gone.

Not that he wasn’t relieved. It was just that, when Ah’Len referred to the foetus as _she_ , suddenly it didn’t feel like a parasite anymore. It felt like a child. And even though she had no genetic link to Trip, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like.

To have a daughter.

So he lay on the biobed silently mourning his loss and hoping that once he returned to duty everyone would finally stop teasing him. The door opening made him tense instinctively and he cast a subtle glance that way, hoping not to see Jon or Hess or anyone else bearing an amused grin.

The sight of Lieutenant Reed caused him to relax. For once Trip was grateful the rank conscious Brit wouldn’t be so informal as to mock his superior officer. Indeed, Reed seemed to take no notice of the commander as he stepped across the room intent on speaking to Doctor Phlox.

“Lieutenant. What can I do for you? Not ill I hope?”

“No. I needed to speak to you about your tactical assessment. Now seemed as good a time as any.”

“My tactical assessment?”

“Yes. I need to have a formal record of everyone’s abilities in case of emergency. In most cases Starfleet records are sufficient but you and the Sub Commander don’t have those.”

“In the case of an emergency Lieutenant, I expect I shall be fully occupied here in sickbay.”

“Nevertheless, I have to complete my report.” Malcolm offered a wry smile. “Even if its only to say you don’t know how to hold a phaser and will require defensive security personnel.”

Tucker ducked his own head to hide his smile even as Phlox nodded his acquiescence.

“Very well. When do you need me?”

“Sub Commander T’Pol is completing hers this evening, after dinner. If you come as well we’ll get it all done at once.”

“As you wish.”

Trip expected the lieutenant to leave then. The man was all about efficiency and doubtless had his day scheduled down to the minute. However Malcolm paused. Then with a clear hesitancy he approached Trip.

Trip deliberately kept his gaze fixed on the far wall and wondered if he was about to receive a tongue in cheek lecture on taking proper precautions.

“Commander,” he was greeted formally.

“If you’re here to joke then you can be on your way,” Trip informed him succinctly feeling an unwelcome tension in his guts.

“Joke? Why should I joke?”

Trip turned to look at him, fully expecting the voice to be belied by a smug smile or teasing eyes. Yet Malcolm looked as serious as ever.

“You were taken advantage of,” he continued. “Something that would never have happened if we had proper security procedures in place.” He dropped his gaze. “I feel I should apologise if anything.”

Trip blinked in surprise.

“It weren’t your fault.”

“I’m the Tactical Officer on this ship.” Reed brought himself back upright. “I should have assessed the risks more thoroughly and insisted on an escort.”

“An’ then what? They’d have stopped me putting my hands in a box of rocks?” He shook his head. “No-one could watch me all the time.”

“And no-one could have known the significance of that ‘box of rocks’. Ah’Len should have informed you.” He hesitated. “Are you alright now?”

“Fine. No longer pregnant and the extra nipple’s gone.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.” Malcolm studied him. “You were impregnated by an alien, Commander. Against your will and without your knowledge. That sort of thing is bound to disturb anyone.”

Tucker swallowed hard as the feeling of violation and loss rose up again and he ran a hand instinctively over his side.

“It did,” he admitted. “ _Not_ how I envisaged having a Charles Tucker the Fourth. But I know better now and I’ll be more careful in future. Don’t want to go through that teasing again. Probably won’t live it down anytime soon though. They all think I’m some sort of lothario and I ain’t. I was a perfect gentleman the entire time!”

“I never doubted it.” The quiet reassurance silenced Trip and he stared at the other man. The scrutiny clearly made him uncomfortable however and he quickly stepped away.

“Well Commander. I hope you will be more careful in future but I’ll still be recommending more stringent security measures be introduced.”

“Lieutenant,” Trip called before he could get far. Reed turned to look at him inquisitively and Trip faltered. Thanks would only further discomfort him and any sign of affection might be misconstrued. He really didn’t want another argument, not when they seemed to be getting along and Malcolm had just been so supportive.

“If you want any backing for that recommendation you’ll have my support.”

Reed offered a grateful smile and an acknowledging nod of the head before continuing on his way. The doctor approached as soon as he saw him leaving.

“Now,” he announced. “I know we agreed to keep you under observation until tonight but it seems I’ll be unavailable…” he tailed off, clearly leaving Tucker to indicate his feelings on the matter. He smiled.

“That’s alright Doc. I’m feeling much more settled now. Think I’ll be alright if you discharge me early.”

Phlox nodded his understanding and moved across to the screen to submit the status change.

“I don’t know why Lieutenant Reed needs me to attend this assessment,” he spoke conversationally. “We both know I’m no fighter.”

“He’s just doing his job. Its because he cares about this mission. And the crew.”

“That he does.” The doctor looked up with a smile. “If only more people recognised his sense of empathy.”

“Yeah,” Trip murmured as he remembered how certain Malcolm had been of Trip’s innocence.

“Alright.” Phlox’s cheerful voice interrupted his chain of thought. “You’re free to go.”

Trip grinned and hopped off the biobed. He’d made it as far as the door before the doctor added,

“Please try to avoid any further intimate contact with unknown species. At least without consulting me first.”

Trip blanched at the Denobulan’s wide grin and hurried from the room pushing all such thoughts quickly from his mind.


	5. Terra Nova

Lieutenant Hess smiled at him as she sipped her mocktail.

“This was a good idea. I haven’t been on a date in… well, what feels like years.”

Trip grinned back at her. He’d been on a few of these dates with different crewwomen now and couldn’t agree more.

“Just ‘cause we’re in space don’t mean we can’t indulge in a little harmless socialising.” He raised his own glass in a salute.

In truth, they both knew it was all for pretend. Asides from the fact their hands bore widely dissimilar marks, and both agreeing that dating within their department was a bad idea, the fact was there was no spark between them. However, they shared similar work ethics and senses of humour so an evening hanging out was good fun. And it never hurt to practice some flirting skills either.

Trip was also pleased to have developed the sort of relaxed work environment that meant he could build friendships with his team without compromising their working relationship. He never wanted to be the sort of boss people felt they couldn’t approach.

It was a very different attitude in the armoury. At least from what he could tell from his visits to find out why there was a sudden unexpected power drain. Not that the team there didn’t form a close working unit but there was little casual about it. They were utterly loyal and dedicated to their department head though. He always got the impression of being surrounded when he ventured too far into their domain.

Trip had been down there earlier – intent on checking the crew’s readiness if a rescue operation was deemed necessary – and he’d found a team palpably anxious about their missing leader. He couldn’t help but wonder how the closed off lieutenant inspired such devotion.

His eye was caught by the slim figure who’d been the object of so much concern entering the mess hall and he couldn’t help but watch him. It wasn’t that long since Phlox was removing a bullet from his leg yet here he was, impeccable in his uniform, looking as unruffled as ever. The very image of a perfect officer.

Trip smirked as he realised that was probably why his whole team looked up to him… despite his short stature.

As his eyes followed him joining the dinner queue, Trip’s mind drifted to his own earlier anxiety. For the first time he had faced the realisation that they could lose someone on this mission. And given his role on this ship, the likelihood suggested it might be Malcolm.

The people ahead of Reed turned with their food to head to a table and the lieutenant automatically stepped back out of the way. He stumbled slightly and winced. Trip saw it and felt it echoed on his own face. His eyes remained glued to the man as he grabbed the nearest plate of food and made a beeline for an empty seat.

It was clear to anybody who cared to look that he was biting down on any show of pain as he moved yet there was another clear wince as he sat that tore at Trip’s heart.

“Why don’t you go over?”

Hess’ voice startled him and he felt a stab of guilt as he realised he’d forgotten she was there. She however was also watching the lone lieutenant sympathetically.

“There’s so few people who he’ll talk to. Really talk to. And after the day he’s had he could probably use a friend.”

“Not sure I qualify.”

“And here I thought you were a friend to everybody on board.”

“Even T’Pol?”

Hess rolled her eyes and gracefully stood.

“Just go over there Commander.”

Trip cast another glance Malcolm’s way even as his bossy subordinate left. Reed had taken the time to speak to him when he was recovering from his unexpected pregnancy. The least he could do was check the man was okay after being shot.

Carefully he cleared his plates and made his way over. He made quite sure he didn’t sneak up on the armoury officer, having heard rumours of what happened to people who surprised him, yet the lieutenant didn’t seem to notice his intention. Trip felt another twist in his heart as he recognised the man simply had no expectation of anyone joining him.

He was about to clear his throat or ask if the seat was taken when his gaze fell on the other man’s hands.

“Hell! How’d your hands get so scratched up?” He sat down heavily. “Looks like they tried to tear your markings off.”

A sharp breath betrayed Reed’s surprise and he quickly withdrew his damaged hand into his lap.

“Commander,” he bit out the title tersely. “I thought you were with another date?”

“Just having dinner with Hess,” Trip said dismissively. “But seriously, what happened to your hand?”

“Its nothing for you to be concerned about,” Reed snapped defensively before taking a slower inhalation and adding, “And its impossible to rip a soulmark off. They grow back no matter the tissue damage.”

“Really? Guess I never thought about it before. How’d you know that?”

Reed kept his gaze levelled somewhere past Tucker’s shoulder.

“In my line of work skin damage to the hands is fairly common.”

“Still, looks painful.”

“I assure you I’ve experienced worse.”

“You mean like being shot and left in a cave with a bullet lodged in yer leg?”

A smile quirked at the lieutenant’s lips and he finally met Trip’s gaze.

“Like that, yes.”

“How are you feeling now though?”

“Fine.” At Trip’s plainly dubious look he amended, “Its still sore but I’m fine for duty and it should heal fully in a couple of days.”

“As long as the doc says you’re okay.” He frowned. “How come he didn’t fix up your hand for ya?”

Reed huffed in obvious annoyance.

“Really Commander. Its not important enough to bother with.”

“I’m surprised he let you outta sickbay without something-”

“Why does it even matter to you?” Reed interrupted irritably. “It doesn’t affect my ability to do my job.”

“Because…” Trip paused as he attempted to find an explanation that might sway the lieutenant into getting his hand treated. “Its not professional to go on duty with an easily treatable injury on show.”

“Very well.” Malcolm stood abruptly, subtly shifting his weight off his injured leg. “If you’ll excuse me Commander, I should report to sickbay.”

“Aw, come on! I didn’t mean… At least finish yer food!”

Trip’s words fell on deaf ears and he watched with a grimace as the other man strode out of the room, visibly stiffening every time his step jarred his wound.

“Damn stubborn limey,” he muttered to himself.

At least Malcolm would get his injury looked at, he consoled himself. There was something deeply concerting about seeing such an ethereal part of him so raw and ruined.

Trip looked to his own delicate artwork and imagined seeing it similarly mutilated and unrecognisable. He felt a surge of sickness and automatically stroked the line to reassure himself of the pattern. The gentle rise and fall calmed him and he let out a sigh.

Malcolm worried him. His dedication to duty was undoubtedly admirable but there was a hint of self devaluation that he didn’t like. Maybe he would have to keep a closer eye on him. As both his peer, being equally departmental heads, and as a senior officer surely it was his duty to look out for him.

After all, if he didn’t who would? Not even Malcolm it seemed.


	6. The Andorian Incident

“Don’t fuss,” Malcolm angled himself out of Phlox’s reach. “Its just some bruising. See to the commanders first.”

“No you don’t,” Trip insisted flatly. “Sit down and let the doctor treat you. That’s an order lieutenant.”

Malcolm glowered but did as instructed, sliding out of the top of his jumpsuit so the doctor could assess his injuries. The Denobulan prodded his skin prompting a wince.

“Just superficial skin damage,” he commented. “A mild topical cream should suffice.”

“I told you it wasn’t anything serious,” Reed remarked huffily as the doctor picked up a tub from the side.

“We gotta keep our resident knight in shining armour in peak condition though don’t we? Who else will rescue my ass otherwise?”

Malcolm twitched slightly and averted his eyes though that was likely because Phlox had just slapped cold cream onto his delicate skin.

“There.” Phlox smiled reassuringly as he rubbed the last of it in. “It should have faded significantly by morning.”

Reed was already heading for the exit even as he fixed his uniform back in place.

“No gym activities!” Trip called after him.

“Aye sir,” Malcolm replied with a teasing salute.

Trip shook his head in fond exasperation as the doors closed behind him. He then turned to see Phlox finishing his examination of T’Pol.

“You seem perfectly fine Sub Commander.”

She nodded an acknowledgment before pointing out,

“Vulcans are naturally tougher than humans.”

“Indeed,” Phlox agreed easily before turning to cast an appraising glance over Trip’s exposed arms. He tsked.

“You have quite the collection of scrapes and bruises.”

“That’s from all those ancient Vulcan tunnels,” he protested only to have this waved away by the doctor.

“However I have just the arachnid for this.”

Trip blanched as the doctor hurried away far too eagerly.

“Arachnid? As in spider?”

“I am sure the doctor’s treatment will be the most effective available,” T’Pol commented in what Trip assumed was meant to be a reassuring manner. He looked at her speculatively. She’d sided with the crew today, not the Vulcan monks. In fact, she’d seemed as appalled as them to find the sanctuary being used as a listening post.

“I was wondering if you might answer some questions for me Commander?”

“Now?” His eye was caught by Phlox carrying what looked to be a far too large glass jar.

“It would seem a most convenient time.” T’Pol too glanced at the doctor before focusing again on Trip. “It is in regard to human soulmarks.”

Trip swallowed and made himself focus on her. He understood she was trying to distract him from his treatment and he was actually grateful.

“What did ya want t’ know?”

“I understand you are born with them but I do not understand their purpose.”

“Their purpose? Its to match you with your soulmate. The ideal partner.”

T’Pol took a moment to process that before asking,

“Do humans have designated times in their lives when this occurs? Are you required to attend traditional gatherings?”

“No.” Trip smiled at the idea. “I mean a lot of people have ‘snap’ parties in their teens-”

“Snap parties?”

“After the card game? Where you gotta be the first to spot two matching cards? You yell ‘snap’.” He shrugged. “Meeting your soulmate can happen anytime though. Supposed to be the greatest moment of your life.”

Her brows creased in obvious confusion.

“Then I do not understand. Why have you not acknowledged the lieutenant’s matching mark? Is it simply so you may both serve together?”

Trip was shaking his head long before she finished.

“They don’t match,” he insisted.

T’Pol cast a glance to Phlox before looking back to the commander.

“They appear to be a perfect match to me.”

“Nah. Ya see mine?” He gestured. “Its got quite sharp points on the peaks. Reed’s are more curved.”

She dutifully looked before commenting,

“And yet you are apparently quite fond of the lieutenant.”

“Yeah. But… fondness isn’t really the same as love.” Trip frowned. “Besides which, I’ve never been interested in guys.”

“There’s a first time for everything though,” Phlox interjected cheerfully. “Perhaps you should be a little more open minded.”

Trip glowered.

“Just cause Denobulans each have three wives with three husbands-”

“On Vulcan,” T’Pol interrupted deftly. “We choose a mate based on logical considerations, such as compatible personalities. While many do choose a different gender for simplicity of procreation it is considered perfectly acceptable to choose a same gendered partner if the reasoning is sound.”

“I don’t got anything against same sex partnerships,” Trip objected. “But humans don’t choose _logically._ ”

“No,” Phlox agreed. “You select a partner whose mark matches because that will be the person who suits you best.”

“I have noted humans prefer mates with similar ethics, life goals and whom they find aesthetically pleasing.”

“You must admit, under those criteria, the lieutenant would seem a good match.”

“An’ I don’t recall asking for either of your advice.” He slid off the biobed. “Are we done here?”

Phlox inclined his head and reached over to scoop up his spider. Trip shuddered at the sight and quickly slid his arms back into his sleeves.

“I apologise if I have offended you,” T’Pol offered quietly. He looked back up intent on telling her to mind her own business only to deflate at her earnest expression.

“Its alright. But human emotions are more complex than you seem to realise. Ya can’t unravel them like a ball of string.”

“I confess I do not think I shall ever comprehend them.”

“At least you don’t have to.” Trip nodded thankfully to the doctor before walking out of sickbay with the Vulcan.

“Yet if I am to operate efficiently within a human crew it is necessary for me to learn to anticipate them.”

“Not sure I’m the best person to talk to really. Why don’t you try Hoshi? She’s good at translating all kinds of languages. I’m guessing body language will be among them.”

T’Pol nodded thoughtfully.

“The suggestion is logical. Thank you Commander.”

He smiled at her as she disappeared down an adjacent corridor. She was trying at least. He could appreciate that.

As he made his own way on towards the mess he found himself thinking about Vulcan logic. He wondered what it would be like to weigh up several suitors and choose the most suitable, regardless of gender or emotion. It made a kind of sense. If your choice was between a person who was really incompatible but the supposed ‘right’ gender, and a same sex individual who you just clicked with, who in their right mind would choose the first option? Especially in today’s age where babies could be created from any two people’s genetic material.

His eyes wandered about the available tables and Crewman Kelly caught his eye and waved him over.

“How are you Commander?”

“None the worse for wear,” he assured her cheerfully.

“I heard Lieutenant Reed personally led the rescue team,” she suggested, casting a glance across the room. He looked and saw the man in question sitting silently in an out of the way corner with a cup of something. Probably tea.

At least he wasn’t immediately back on duty, he thought to himself.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, curious about her interest.

She sighed and rested her chin on her hand.

“I bet it was an impressive sight. He’s so… intense.”

Trip chuckled as the pieces fell into place.

“It was certainly dramatic,” he granted. “But don’t get your hopes up. He’s not interested in any ladies on board.”

He didn’t want to out the lieutenant but he also felt it was necessary to discourage unwanted attention.

“Pity.” She looked at Reed again. “I can still enjoy looking at him though.”

Tucker looked over as well.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “No harm in looking.”


	7. Breaking The Ice

Trip was not in a good mood. He’d got up early to make this meeting today and now the others weren’t even on time. Travis he could understand but…

“It ain’t like Lieutenant Reed t’ be late,” he complained.

Hoshi looked across from her conversation with T’Pol.

“I saw him at breakfast. He was helping Travis.”

Archer nodded understandingly and Trip dropped his head guiltily. In truth he was less upset at his colleagues’ tardiness than he was put out by a disturbed night’s sleep. All night he’d been plagued by visions of losing their teammates in the icy depths of the comet. Unable to reach them with the grappler, no Vulcans on hand with a tractor beam, only insufficient platitudes as he fought helplessly to find another way to save them.

Trip really didn’t cope well without enough sleep and he could feel himself on edge. It was made worse by his residual feeling of guilt over not being able to rescue Travis and Malcolm. Especially since Reed had so unhesitatingly come to his aid at P’Jem.

The turbolift doors finally opened to deposit the missing officers on the bridge and Trip frowned as he saw Travis leaning on Malcolm for support.

“You alright to be on duty ensign?”

“Phlox cleared him for bridge duty,” Archer answered with a smile for the young Boomer. “No away missions though.”

“That is unlikely to be an issue at present,” T’Pol explained before switching the viewer display. “The area of space we are entering has no habitable planets and is some distance from any trade routes. It does however present a unique opportunity for scientific research.”

Trip found himself losing track of her analysis in favour of watching Reed with Travis. The man seemed far more comfortable with the helmsman than he ever was with him. They were standing closer than usual from where Travis had been holding onto Malcolm’s arm – at least Trip assumed that was why they were standing close.

He’d never had cause to ask Travis his sexuality before but he wondered about it now. Was it possible he and the lieutenant had bonded over the experience in the shuttle?

He was being ridiculous he decided, forcing his gaze back onto the Sub Commander. Their soulmarks were in no way similar and Reed didn’t seem to him as the type to engage in playful flirtations with no purpose.

Not that it was any of his business either way.

“Okay everyone.” Jon’s voice startled Tucker back to his surroundings. “Let’s get going.”

Trip glanced around guiltily but no-one seemed to be hurrying anywhere other than their normal stations. He looked to Reed who was hovering at the edge of the tactical station, eyes on where Hoshi was accompanying Travis to his seat. Cautiously Trip moved closer.

“Uh, so, I might have missed part of that briefing,” he commented awkwardly.

The lieutenant turned to him with a solitary eyebrow raised.

“Which part?” he enquired dutifully.

“Um… all of it?”

Reed didn’t huff or roll his eyes, which was a credit to his strict training, but he did cross his arms instinctively tucking his soulmark out of sight.

“Luckily for you there were no important engineering instructions. Unless we’re called to refit a probe.”

“Great.” Trip grinned in relief. “Could do with a quiet day. I hardly slept a wink.”

The arms unfolded themselves and Reed looked him over more carefully.

“Is something the matter?”

“Nah. I just had trouble unwinding after that business on the comet.”

Reed did sniff at that.

“With all due respect Commander, its Ensign Mayweather and I who should be making that complaint.”

“Yeah.” Trip cast a sideways glance at him. “How are ya in fact?”

“Perfectly fine Commander. I knew the risks involved with this mission. If I wasn’t prepared to deal with them I wouldn’t have signed up.”

“Still, if you ever want to talk…” he tailed off but the lieutenant refused to pick up on the offer. He changed tacks. “I was wondering. D’you want to have dinner tonight? Maybe talk through the possible schematics of that Vulcan tractor beam?”

Trip could practically see the cogwheels turning in his head.

“That does sound interesting,” Reed conceded. “And technology like that would have all kinds of uses. But I can’t tonight. I agreed to help Travis amend his fitness programme to compensate for his injury.”

“Right. Course.” Trip tried not to sound sulky.

“I’ll schedule a departmental meeting,” Reed suggested. “There’s a few people on my team who might have some useful ideas.”

“Yeah. I think a couple of my guys have expertise in that area.” He forced a smile as Malcolm turned away to his post but he couldn’t help but feel a tad disappointed.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t have friends of his own, he reasoned to himself alone in the turbolift. Any one of his engineering crew would be happy to share dinner and a chat with him. And Jon had been his good friend for years. He was always glad to take time off from being Captain Archer to kick back with a beer. So why was it irritating him that Malcolm was seemingly better friends with Travis?

He stepped into the familiarity of engineering and felt his tension ease. Then it struck him. Perhaps _that_ was his real issue. All the other senior officers, Phlox excluded, shared their duty shift on the bridge while he was sequestered down here. And the alien doctor probably didn’t have the same human social needs so it might not bother him.

Not that Trip didn’t enjoy being in engineering – he did – but he couldn’t share in the tales of interesting situations that cropped up from the central hub of the ship. And no-one could understand his own insider jokes of amusing engineering anecdotes.

That made sense. It was all very well having dinner with the captain and T’Pol but he wasn’t really part of the bridge team. If that was the case then it was easily fixed. He just had to spend more time at his bridge station.

Right alongside Malcolm, his mind supplied.

Well that could work out nicely too. T’Pol and Hoshi were obviously bonding over cross cultural communications. Trip knew Jon was keen to hear more spacer’s tales from Mayweather. Which left Malcolm all on his lonesome. If they were going to be working closer together – both literally on the bridge and figuratively over projects – then it made sense to build up a better rapport.

As their First Officer might say, it was only logical. And he was good at making friends.

He frowned slightly as he recalled his previous attempts to reach out to the lieutenant but then shook those concerns away. They’d started out with a misunderstanding and he’d been too abrupt, he understood that now. Malcolm was slow to adjust to people. He liked to have time to study them first.

Trip recalled how he’d first seen the dark haired man, still and silent, watching the party goers. He wasn’t one to dive into any situation without checking for hidden traps first.

By now he must have figured Tucker out though. After all, with him what you saw was pretty much what you got. He found himself excited to discover what Malcolm might be like beneath the lieutenant shielding. At any rate, it would be an interesting endeavour.


	8. Civilization

“Some first contact huh?”

Jon smiled bashfully at the teasing but raised his glass in salute.

“If only they all were so pleasant.”

“To Riaan,” Trip agreed happily taking a swig of his brew before smirking. “Did Phlox give ya a pregnancy test when ya got back?”

Jon looked affronted.

“It was nothing like that.”

“Nor was me an’ Ah’Len,” Trip pointed out seriously. “In fact I never even _touched_ her. You however-”

“Alright,” Jon held his hand up in surrender. “I’ll stop by sickbay in the morning alright?”

Trip nodded his satisfaction and Jon smirked back at him.

“Guess we should be grateful I kept you away from any such trouble again.”

“Hey! I always behave like a perfect gentleman,” Trip insisted. “I wouldn’t of gone kissing someone without permission.”

“It was necessary,” Archer reminded him practically before smiling at the memory. “Besides, she didn’t mind.”

Trip shook his head in amusement and Jon straightened to challenge him.

“Oh come on. She was beautiful. Kind and intelligent too. Don’t tell me that’s not your type.”

His companion shrugged non-committedly.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he explained. “I wouldn’t have been beating her off but… I don’t know, she just seemed a bit too… tame.”

“Tame? I thought you liked that girl-next-door vibe?”

“I did. I do. I don’t know.” He shrugged again. “Guess being out here in space has opened my eyes to new possibilities.”

“Really?” Jon slowly sipped his drink as he appraised his friend. Before today he would have said unhesitantly that he knew Trip’s type. It was a home grown, natural girl, who was open and loving. This change of heart piqued his interest.

“So what would it take to tempt you now?” he queried.

Trip surveyed him right back seemingly checking if this was the set up for some sort of joke. However, seeing the sincerity in his friend’s eyes, he relented.

“I suppose, facing new challenges and wonders, I’ve kind of realised I’d probably get… well, bored with someone like that. It makes a pretty picture but I’m not sure I’d want to live it. I want someone who’ll keep on surprising me. Someone with layers to unravel, year after year, ‘til we’re both old and grey and still ridiculously in love.”

Jon couldn’t help but snort.

“Still the eternal romantic,” he commented.

“Yup,” Trip confirmed. “Whoever I fall for had better be prepared to be properly wooed.”

“The perfect gentleman indeed.” Jon raised his glass in another toast which Trip cheerfully acknowledged.

“You and Danica still waiting?” he then asked cautiously. Jon dropped his gaze to the swirling liquid left in his glass.

“Yeah. I mean, it was too soon for anything serious when we were kids. And then with me joining Starfleet and her brother…” he tailed off but Trip nodded understandingly.

“An’ you’ve both agreed not to, you know, keep yerselves?”

Jon smiled at the genteel phrasing.

“It would hardly be fair. To either of us. Neither of us know when we’ll realistically be ready to settle down.”

Trip nodded again and cast around for a change of topic.

“Going to the movie this week?”

Archer shook his head.

“Between reading dispatches and reports, and then writing my own dispatches and reports, I don’t think I’ll have time. Sorry.”

“Tha’s alright.” Trip shrugged unconcernedly. “Maybe I’ll ask Malcolm.”

“Malcolm?” He eyed Trip curiously. “Lieutenant Reed?”

“Yeah. I’m trying to see if I can’t get him to relax a bit.”

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Trip frowned.

“Well… you don’t seem to get along very well.”

Tucker stared flatly at him before the penny seemed to drop.

“Ya mean because of all those complaints? Him accusing me of holding up his shipments and that business with the armoury diverting power without asking me? That was ages ago. We straightened that out.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of him calling you a tactless hick and you frequently calling him a tight assed limey.”

“You see, that’s the point.” Trip pointed a finger emphatically. “That’s why I gotta make an effort to help him unwind. How else is he going to fit in around here?”

“He fits in.” Archer found himself defending the absent armoury officer. “All his crew respects him and he’s a welcome member of the bridge crew.”

“But he don’t ever just hang out. Like this. You and me, kicking back.”

“Not everyone relaxes the same way Trip.”

“No but…” Trip floundered. “I want to find out what makes him tick. There ain’t nothing wrong with that is there? You said yourself ya wanted us to work closer together.”

“Of course.” Archer found his gaze drifting to the long familiar line winding across his friend’s hand and deliberately closed his mouth against any instinctive comment. Instead he suggested carefully, “Just try to respect his boundaries, okay?”

“Of course,” Trip echoed. “I’m always a-”

“Perfect gentleman,” Jon finished with a smile before quickly continuing, “So what movie are you showing this week?”

Trip’s face lit up.

“I found a great old film. Right up Reed’s alley – British secret service and explosions.”

“I might know it.” Jon frowned in thought. “Was it part of a franchise? 00… something?”

“Don’t think so. Its called Kings-man. Sounds apt don’t you think?”

“As long as its not _too_ specialist.”

“Nah. It was hugely popular and has quite a cult following even now.”

Archer nodded, his mind not really on the film choice but his friend’s enthusiasm.

“Why don’t you dig out another game?” he suggested. Trip obligingly went across to look through the data discs giving Jon the chance to think in relative peace a moment.

He’d seen Trip like this before, devotedly making plans to get closer to someone, but never a man before. Jon didn’t have a problem with it, beyond the fear he was in for a severe disappointment, but Captain Archer had other concerns.

Two senior officers couldn’t start a serious relationship. It was one of the rules Starfleet had been most insistent on. This first mission was too important for them to risk the crew not being entirely focused on it. It was why they’d had the meet and greet, to ensure there’d be no surprises or distractions.

He wished now that he’d insisted on seeing the soulmarks then, right up next to each other, when he’d had the chance. Though that would have put him in an extremely difficult position as Trip’s friend.

No, he reflected, it was far better to have deniability. As far as he knew, their marks didn’t match. Plus, Tucker had said nothing about _dating_ Reed. Only building a better working relationship. That was admirable. Starfleet couldn’t object to that.

So Jon resolved to say absolutely nothing in his personal log which might get any of them into trouble. He glanced over to the placid looking man again. And while Trip himself was still unaware of the significance of his actions, they might all just get away with this.

How long would that status quo last though? Especially if Trip followed his usual behavioural pattern? Reed at the very least would probably twig what was going on. But then he at least, Archer was sure, would react as per regulations. Trip would be disappointed but no-one would have to be reassigned.

“Want another beer?” Trip asked as he headed back to his seat. Jon smiled.

“Why not? I’m off duty after all.”


	9. Fortunate Son

Malcolm was still finishing up with Hoshi when Trip skidded to a stop in the gym and he breathed a sigh of relief. That was until he caught the rather irritated glare flung his way by the lieutenant. He let out another sigh.

“Where have you been?” Travis asked quietly.

“I just got caught up in engineering.”

“You know this isn’t compulsory right?” the ensign prodded.

“I know. I didn’t mean ta be late. I want to be here.”

Their hushed conversation was disrupted by Malcom’s clear voice.

“Well done! You’re getting much better at this.”

“Well I’ve had an excellent teacher.” She smiled proudly despite her words.

“Or more likely your incentive to impress is providing motivation.”

Hoshi’s smile grew and she ducked her head. Malcolm wandered over to her with his own indulgent smile.

“Next week?” he suggested. She nodded and turned to fetch her things. As Reed went to grab his towel, Trip leant in to Travis again.

“What’s he mean? Her incentive to impress. Impress who?”

Travis shrugged.

“The captain I suppose. She’s not the most at home in space after all.”

Trip would have agreed with that but Lieutenant Reed had turned and was now fixing him with a glower. As he approached, Trip felt an urge to back away.

“Glad you could join us Commander.”

“It weren’t my fault,” he protested immediately. “I tried my best to get done on time but I couldn’t leave a possible fault in the engines.”

“Of course.” Malcolm surveyed him critically. “Nevertheless you can’t just jump right in. Why don’t you watch me spar with Travis then we’ll get you warmed up and try out a few moves.”

It was phrased as a question yet Tucker was in no doubt it was an instruction. He only just resisted the urge to salute and say ‘aye sir’.

He settled into his place as Malcolm and Travis took up their positions on the mat and tried to focus his attention. It didn’t help that he was still tense from the panic of an hour ago which had, thankfully, turned out to be a false alarm.

The sparring partners suddenly lunged, each gripping the other’s trapezius and grappling to unbalance their opponent. Trip would have thought that Travis’ size advantage would give him the necessary momentum but a glance showed the lieutenant had braced his legs. Muscles were clearly bunched on his thighs and it was obvious that being the shorter side of tall in fact gave him a more stable centre of gravity.

They repeated this manoeuvre twice more before Malcolm deftly stepped and twisted and Travis was flat on his back. The Boomer didn’t seem fazed though and bounced back up with a smile.

“Supplex?” he asked. Malcolm inclined his head in acknowledgment and moved back in.

This time Trip watched as they swayed and pawed before Travis lunged to grab Malcolm’s waist. The lieutenant practically pirouetted out of his reach before snagging his own arms about his opponent and hauling him up and over.

“I’ll be,” Trip murmured. For someone so small, Reed sure packed a lot of strength in there. He watched enthralled as this move was repeated several times until Travis stood with a chuckle and panted,

“Okay. I give.” He grinned. “You might have given me a chance though!”

Trip hadn’t thought Malcolm was at all out of breath but he looked a little flushed now.

“Its important to learn to take your lumps,” he commented. “And to keep going.”

“Yeah. Well we can work on that another day. I need a shower.” As he headed to the exit past Trip he clapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

The room suddenly seemed very quiet now the boomer had gone and Trip found himself staring at the lieutenant waiting patiently on the training mat.

Or not so patiently.

“Haven’t you kept me waiting long enough?”

Trip’s mind floundered and he knew he opened his mouth vaguely before Malcolm gestured to the mat in front of him. He flushed as he understood and quickly trotted over.

“How do you want me?” he asked and then tried to hide a wince at the word choice.

“Since you were late, we need to warm you up first.”

“Not something that’s likely to happen in a real fight is it?”

“With all due respect Commander, if you exercised regularly it wouldn’t be an issue.” Trip glared but Malcolm was unfazed. “Let’s start with your legs shall we? Copy me.”

Trip was still miffed but he dutifully copied the other man, determined to show he wasn’t unfit. His eyes followed each action carefully, watching how the lunge stretched out those thigh muscles. How they strained to hold the position.

As they moved to the next pose Trip found his eyes fixed on taut abdominal muscles. He was glad he’d worn a looser t-shirt as he reached high, knowing his own stomach could not exactly be described as flat. Then Malcolm gracefully curved over. Trip tried to copy, even as his eyes walked their way along that arch, only to stumble and cough in embarrassment.

“Okay. Shake it out now.” Malcolm jogged slightly and shook his arms to loosen the muscles. Trip echoed the movements and then waited for his next instructions.

“Do you know how to fall Commander?”

He rolled his eyes.

“I did attend phys. ed. classes.”

“But do you remember them? I’m here to train you, not hurt you.”

“Yeah, I remember.” Trip demonstrated, arms wide as he flung himself down, taking the brunt across his shoulders. Malcolm nodded approval.

“Alright. How about we practise using your legs? You should have an advantage with long legs like that.”

“Okay,” Trip said hesitantly unsure if he was being complimented or not.

“Just try and sweep me off my feet.” Malcolm ducked and swung his leg around in demonstration. “Then pinion me. We want to end fights quickly after all.”

Trip nodded enthusiastically and assessed his opponent. With his height advantage he should be able to sweep out Malcolm before the lieutenant’s legs were even in range. He feigned left quickly before dodging right and sweeping his leg out…

Only to have his breath knocked out from him as his foot was caught and spun away. He looked up to see Reed smirking.

“Try again Commander.”

Trip pushed himself up and eyed him dubiously. This time he darted forward only to step back quickly as Malcolm swung an arm. He smirked only to see Reed suddenly up close and…

Once again he was flat on his back, only this time Malcolm was knelt over him, effectively keeping him down.

“Ready to give up?”

Trip couldn’t say whether it was the teasing tone, the unfamiliar warmth of having another body so close, or something else entirely but he could feel himself reacting to the intimate position. In a confused panic he blurted,

“Ah surrender.”

Reed blinked in surprise.

“Are you alright?” He stood quickly and reached to help Trip up. “Did I hurt you?”

He sounded so concerned that Trip felt his panic ease. Or perhaps that was just being upright and away from the bodily contact. Either way he smiled reassuringly.

“No. Just… think I should have eaten something before training.”

As he said it he realised that was actually probably true. His blood sugar was probably low and when combined with the rush of getting knocked down, was it any wonder his blood flooded the wrong way?

Malcolm tsked.

“Yes Commander, you should.” He let out a breath and surveyed Trip in what might have been fondness but could also have been annoyance. “We’ll stop for today. Go eat something. And next time have dinner first. And _try_ to be on time.”

Trip couldn’t help himself and he grinned.

“Aye sir,” he teased before darting for the door, embarrassment already dismissed.


	10. Cold Front

Trip was having a nice time. _This_ was why he had opted for space exploration after all.

Well, maybe he’d more envisaged exploring alien cultures on some distant planet rather than a starship observation room. And maybe it was more the promise of working on the most advanced engine in Starfleet that got him onto said starship. But mingling with whole new species was definitely in his top three reasons for signing up.

It was probably in everyone’s top three to be fair. Or almost everyone’s. His eye fell on a very familiar sight.

Lieutenant Reed had stationed himself at the edge of the room where he could survey the comings and goings of everyone. Trip was forcibly reminded of the first time he’d seen him. It had been in exactly such a pose of wary surveillance. Did the man never let his guards down?

With a vague sense of de ja vu, he wandered over. Reed spotted him at once of course but didn’t give up his observation of the crowd.

“Commander,” he registered Trip’s arrival verbally, eyes still elsewhere.

“Ya know this is meant to be a relaxing evening don’t ya? The chance to discuss cultural differences and broaden our horizons.”

“I am aware.”

“Then why are you doing your best impression of a statue?”

Reed’s eyes did come over to him then.

“Just because Captain Archer wants to have a friendly exchange of ideas doesn’t mean everyone does. We don’t know any of these people. Or their agendas.”

“Do you have to be so negative all the time? Why don’t I get you a drink? You can try behaving like a normal human being for once.”

Malcolm’s eyes fixed themselves back across the room.

“Not while I’m on duty Commander.”

“On duty? Who said ya had to be on duty?”

“The captain agreed a security officer present was both a sensible precaution and – I suspect his more pressing concern – demonstrated a professional appearance to our guests.”

“Yeah. I’m sure they really appreciate having you watch each of them like they were criminals.”

Malcolm shot an irritated glare to him and Trip braced himself in anticipation of an argument. It seemed the only way he could ever get the tactical officer to unbend.

Reed however turned smartly from him and for one horrible moment Trip thought he’d pushed too hard. Then he noticed the arrival of Prah Mantoos which Malcolm had apparently already detected.

“Lieutenant Reed,” the pilgrim leader greeted warmly. “Your captain has agreed for your physician to transfer to our ship overnight. Would you wish to join him?”

Reed smiled at the man and it was a nice smile Trip realised. Not a smirk or grimace but a genuine pleasant smile. One he didn’t think he’d seen before.

“It is a very kind invitation however I must decline. My duties here… you understand.”

“Of course. Your diligence is most honourable. It is almost relatable to our own sacred dedication.” He looked towards Trip. “Commander Tucker. My companions and I appreciate the open friendship you have displayed. We have felt most welcome.”

Tucker smiled, irrationally pleased with the praise, and shot a smug glance to Malcolm.

“Its been a pleasure,” he assured.

“Do you also have experience with mystical phenomena?”

He gaped dumbly at the seeming non-sequitur and found himself again glancing to Malcolm, this time for assistance. Somewhat to his surprise Reed intervened.

“Prah Mantoos is referring to Earth’s aurora.”

“Oh! Ah. No.”

“A shame. From what the lieutenant tells me it is quite a moving experience.”

Trip arched a curious eyebrow down at his colleague.

“My family stayed in the north for a while. I was quite taken with the lights.”

“I hope the Great Plume of Agosoria proves as enlightening.” He bowed and took his leave of them.

“I didn’t know you were fond of the aurora borealis,” Trip commented into the ensuing silence.

“Why should you?”

“It’s the kind of things friends talk about.”

“Are we friends?”

The question wasn’t derogative, Trip understood at once despite Reed’s tone. The look in his eyes betrayed that he was genuinely curious about the answer.

Trip thought for a moment. It was true that they didn’t have a friendship that he would consider such with anyone else but then the lieutenant was hardly like anyone else Trip knew. They didn’t share drinks together or chat over irrelevant things. He knew next to nothing about the man’s likes or dislikes and his history was still a closed book.

Yet he felt an undeniable warmth for the man. Despite any rational reasoning, he knew he would offer support to Malcolm with the same unhesitating willingness he would Jon. Physical, verbal or emotional. So, yes, he definitely felt they were friends.

Nevertheless he replied cautiously, knowing how reluctant Malcolm could be about such conversations.

“I’d like to think we are.”

Malcolm stared at him, foregoing his study of everyone else in order to assess Trip.

“I’m not sure we are,” he said eventually before adding. “But I’m willing to try.”

Trip couldn’t stop his grin.

“Does that mean you’ll have a drink with me?”

A smile quirked at Malcolm’s lips as he turned once again to watch the assembly.

“I’m still on duty Commander.”

“Yeah, but after that,” Trip pressed.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to get plastered while we’re in the midst of a diplomatic mission.”

“Who said anything about getting plastered?” Trip held his hands out appealingly. “Just one drink. One. Before you call it a night.”

Reed rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he agreed. “I’ll share one drink. Once I’m off duty.”

“Great! I’ll meet up with you later then. And no sneaking off,” he ordered as he moved away to join the crowds again.

As he slipped back into conversation with other curious crewmen and aliens, he found his gaze continually drifting across to the Englishman. It was only to make sure he didn’t disappear before fulfilling his promise of course but Tucker couldn’t deny the bubble of satisfaction he felt each time he saw him still there.

And when he glanced to find Malcolm’s eyes watching him, and saw the little smile that pulled his lips up against his will, he couldn’t stop his own feeling of happiness.


	11. Silent Enemy

“Commander? Can you spare me a few minutes?”

Trip looked up at Hoshi, fork hovering halfway to his mouth.

“Does it haveta be now?” he nearly whined. “I ain’t eaten in what feels like days.”

“I don’t want to interrupt your meal,” she explained slipping into the chair next to him. “Just talk.”

“That’s alright then.” He jammed the delayed fork into his mouth and practically swallowed it whole. “We can talk ‘til I finish eating. Then I gotta get back to the phase cannons.”

“Its about Malcolm.”

“Oh?” Trip found himself hesitating over his next mouthful.

“I was wondering if you knew what his favourite food is?”

“Oh.” He thoughtfully chewed as he considered that. He was sure he’d eaten with Malcolm before but he couldn’t say he remembered what the man had chosen. Certainly he didn’t recall any discussions of preferences, food wise or otherwise.

Well, except for the whole sexuality thing but he doubted that was something he should be telling the ensign.

“Sorry. Can’t say as I do.”

“Damn it. The captain wants to cook something special for his birthday but no-one seems to know what he likes.”

“Its his birthday?”

Hoshi gave him an exasperated stare.

“That’s in his records,” she said accusingly.

“Well excuse me for not having time to read everyone’s files,” he blustered, digging into his food again. “Been a bit busy with hostile aliens right now.”

In truth he had read Malcolm’s service record but that information had slipped his mind in the ongoing crisis.

“I was thinking,” Hoshi continued. “You might have some ideas? I know you’ve had drinks together and train together. You even got him to movie night.”

Trip kept his attention focused on his plate. He had made it something of a personal mission to get the lieutenant to warm up to him but Hoshi’s innocent question about his favourite food only served to remind him how little progress he’d made.

“You and Malcolm seem pretty close yerselves,” he deflected.

“Not like _that_ ,” she denied quickly. Almost too quickly. Trip once again turned his attention to her, this time raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

“I tried to ask Malcolm what he liked. Earlier. Over dinner. He thought I was propositioning him.”

“He never.” Trip grinned, wondering how the homosexual Reed must have reacted to a heterosexual advance.

“I know it seems ridiculous. He’s gay and I’m interested elsewhere but we’ve joked before now that it’d be easier for us both just to hook up together.”

Trip blinked, thrown by both the casual way Hoshi revealed her knowledge of Malcolm’s sexuality and the fact they apparently joked together about their love lives. Or lack thereof.

“It sounds like you’ve got a much closer relationship with him than I have.” Even he could hear the slightly aggrieved tone in his voice. Hoshi merely shrugged.

“There’s not many people who can understand what its like not to have a soulmark.”

“But Malcolm’s _got_ a mark,” he pointed out instinctively. Hoshi gave him a funny look at that.

“But not a soulmate,” she countered and Trip felt himself unable to meet her gaze. “I don’t know,” she continued. “He just always seems to know what to say to cheer me up. What advice to give for making my feelings known.”

“Really? Malcolm?”

“Yes Commander. He’s really quite empathetic. It just makes me feel sadder about it all.”

“Sadder?” He was aware that he was clearly still a step behind the communications officer. She fixed her gaze on his.

“I have spoken to his sister, his friend, his uncle, two aunts… the captain even spoke to his parents… and none of them even know what he likes to eat. It just feels like a lonely sort of existence.”

Trip looked again to his plate remembering how the captain had told him Malcolm’s parents didn’t even know he was an armoury officer. He couldn’t imagine being that much of a closed book to the people closest to him. But then, perhaps, Malcolm had good reason to be cautious about letting people close.

Trip’s stomach clenched and he pushed the remainder of his food away.

“Commander?”

“I should be getting back to work.” He tried for a smile but wasn’t sure he succeeded. Especially when she said,

“I’ll walk with you. I’m heading to sickbay anyway.”

As they made their way towards the exit and back towards their respective duties Trip cast around for a topic to distract them from their newfound melancholy.

“You said you were interested elsewhere,” he prompted. “Care to share who’s caught yer eye?”

She blushed prettily and dropped her eyes before replying softly.

“T’Pol.”

“The Sub Commander? You’ve got to be kidding me!” He barked a shocked laugh. She slapped his arm none too lightly.

“I’m not joking.”

“Sorry,” he said at once before blurting, “but she’s a _Vulcan_!”

“I had noticed.” She rolled her eyes. “But she’s also smart and kind, in a logical way. And she believes in me. And when I’m with her I believe in me too.”

“That sounds real nice,” Trip offered gently with an apologetic smile. Hoshi gave a half shrug and cast a sly glance up at him.

“That and she has a nice bum.” She smirked as he burst out laughing again.

“A nice _bum_?”

“Its an inside joke.” Hoshi smiled. “Malcolm listens to me talk about her. A lot.”

“And do you do any listening for him?” Trip prodded curiously.

She threw a teasing look at him and blatantly ignored the question.

“This is where we part ways Commander. Good luck with the weapons.”

“Yeah, for all our sakes,” he agreed. “But I hope you succeed in your mission too. Both of them.”

She smiled again before continuing on her way. Trip turned and made his own way to rejoin his team though his thoughts remained on that final unanswered question.

The more he thought on it, the more he could envisage Malcolm providing a sympathetic ear to Hoshi’s hopeless affections for T’Pol. He was a good listener. A part of Trip was glad to know that he did have someone he would talk to about something other than ship’s business, even if it wasn’t him.

Was there anyone on board who Malcolm fancied? Had he told her about their initial confusion over the similarity of their soulmarks? Did they laugh together about anyone thinking he and Trip might have the same patterns?

He looked again at the wave pattern on his hand. It wasn’t such a difficult mistake to make. Really, when he looked hard at it, he was sure no-one else on board had such a similar mark. So Malcolm probably wasn’t eyeing up anyone else was he?

He didn’t have time to analyse that thought as he found himself suddenly engulfed in chaos. But something in his subconscious was prompting him to look at Malcolm a different way and it was far easier than he expected to acknowledge the armoury officer was possibly in the right over connecting the cannons directly to the impulse engines.


	12. Dear Doctor

“Whatcher doin’ lieutenant?” Trip watched in alarm as blood flooded the back of Malcolm’s hand.

“Carving this into a new shape. Or cutting it off. One or other.”

“Stop that! You’re hurtin’ yerself!”

“I’m not the one holding the knife Commander.”

Trip snapped awake gasping for breath. His hands were shaking as he raised them, half expecting to see the bloody knife still in his grasp. He let out a slow exhale at seeing them empty and buried them in his hair as he tried to calm his breathing.

This wasn’t the first time Malcolm had featured in his dreams – though Trip usually tried not to dwell on that – but this was the first time it had been a nightmare.

He glanced to his clock and cursed as he realised it wasn’t even 0600 yet. There was no way he was getting back to sleep after that but he was going to be off kilter and tired if he got up now.

Reluctantly he rose and headed for his small shower cubicle hoping the water would either wake him up or banish the lingering vision. Preferably both. Unfortunately for him it only succeeded in the former and not even very well at that.

He felt an achey tension set up across his shoulders as he stepped out from under the shower. He tried rolling them to loosen them up before pulling on his uniform but to no avail. Finally, at barely 0600, dressed and undeniably stressed, he realised the best thing to do was visit Phlox. The very idea of going through a whole day like this was ridiculous and he knew it would only get worse as time wore on and his inevitable tiredness increased.

Luckily Phlox was pretty much always in sickbay. Trip wasn’t sure if Denobulans even slept and certainly he’d never encountered the doctor snoozing. Although there was always a first time for everything.

“Doc?”

The physician wandered out into the main room.

“Commander. This is unusually early. Is everything alright?”

“Not really.” He hopped himself up onto a biobed. “Got this tension across mah shoulders and it’ll only lead to a headache later if I leave it.”

Phlox moved around and began carefully feeling the stiff muscles.

“How was your sleep?” he enquired. “Did you rest in an awkward pose?”

“Nah. But I had nightmares. Guess that might have caused the tension.”

“Nightmares?” Phlox stepped back in front of him. “What about?”

“Does it matter?”

“If they were the cause of your current aches then yes. I would be a poor physician if I treated the symptoms and ignored the cause.”

“It was just a nightmare.” He avoided the doctor’s eyes. “A one off.”

“Are you certain about that? You have never had similar dreams before?”

Trip knew he was shifting like a naughty school boy and relented.

“Well… similar,” he conceded. “But he never appeared in a nightmare before.”

“He?”

Trip paled as he realised what he’d let slip. He really didn’t work well on too little sleep. His already dodgy brain to mouth filter was the first thing to go.

“Commander?” Phlox pressed gently.

Trip decided he may as well explain. And at least the nightmare was less embarrassing than some of the other dreams.

“I dreamt I saw Malcolm cutting himself. His hand.” He gestured to where his own soulmark was. “But then _I_ was the one doing the cutting.” He shuddered again at the memory and unconsciously ran his hand soothingly over his own mark.

“And you have no idea what might have prompted this vision?”

“I don’t know,” Trip snapped at the patronising tone. “Indigestion?”

Phlox’s expression showed he was less than impressed with that response and Trip felt a stab of shame.

“Commander. Intense dreams are often a sign of something unacknowledged in your waking life. Does the fact your dreams revolve around Lieutenant Reed – and even show you _erasing_ the evidence of his soulmark – tell you _nothing_?”

“I’m not gay,” Trip mumbled but it was less a denial now than an indication of confusion. Phlox tilted his head.

“Would it be so bad if you were?”

“No. Course not. Its just that… I’ve always fancied girls.”

“Human sexuality is not a binary system Commander,” he admonished bracingly. “It’s a wide spectrum of possibilities. Perhaps the lieutenant is the one exception to your heterosexual lifestyle hhmm?”

As Trip continued to stare silently somewhere towards his feet Phlox patted him comfortingly on the shoulder. “I will get you a muscle relaxant. Just… consider the possibility you could be bisexual. I believe acknowledging that will end the vivid dreams.”

Phlox headed away to his medicines and Trip sat quietly reciting the word in his head.

Bisexual. It didn’t sound quite as scary as he’d feared. He tried it aloud.

“Bisexual.” Nothing catastrophic happened. “Huh.”

He sat up a little straighter and focused on having an imaginary conversation with someone.

“Hi. I’m Trip. And I’m bi.” He felt a swell of pride at his announcement. A sort of freedom from a restriction he hadn’t realised he was under. Living up to a hypothetical ideal. Phlox chose that moment to return, his smile indicating he’d heard Trip. Somewhat to his surprise Trip found himself smiling back. He let out a sigh of infinite relief as the doctor injected him and then looked up with as much sincerity as he could.

“Thanks Doc. Really.”

“You are very welcome.”

He rolled his shoulders experimentally again as he left sickbay and was satisfied to find the pain was gone. There was an undeniable bounce to his step as he headed towards the mess and an early breakfast which couldn’t entirely be accounted for by the eased muscles. In his head the refrain ‘Bi, I’m bi’ kept repeating, making him feel almost light headed. He felt he was seeing the world with fresh eyes.

It wasn’t until he was sat with a muffin and a cup of coffee that his giddy thoughts settled and he found himself thinking seriously of Malcolm. If he accepted that he was open to attraction of all sexes, that didn’t necessarily mean he was attracted to _Malcolm_.

Sure the guy was attractive – anyone with eyes could see that – with those piercing eyes and exquisite bone structure. And he was kind, helping Travis with his physical therapy and Hoshi with her personal life. Not to mention dedicated to his duty. Which Trip knew was because he cared deeply. He felt responsible for everyone on board and would lay down his life for any of them.

It caused a dull ache in his chest when he thought about that. The man was always trying to appear aloof and invulnerable yet he probably had the most generous heart of anyone Trip had ever met.

However he always put himself down. Never seeming to think he lived up to expectations or was truly valued as a person.

Trip’s eyes dropped to his own hand and soulmark. The memory of his dream tore through him and his heart sunk. If Malcolm _was_ his soulmate, then it could have done nothing for his self esteem to have seen Trip pull away.

Though perhaps Malcolm hadn’t been convinced they matched either. After all, he hadn’t warmed to Trip very quickly. Even now he still insisted on using his title rather than his name.

In which case it was up to Trip to change his mind so he’d see him as a potential partner before drawing attention to their marks again.

Partner.

The word in conjunction with the thought of Malcolm sent a pleasant warmth through him. He let his mind wander to thoughts of pet names and teasing and kissing and touching…

He was glad he’d gotten in his breakfast early and he fled the arriving crowds before he could embarrass himself too badly.


	13. Sleeping Dogs

Trip had initially been merely bemused by how Malcolm could have possibly caught a cold on a hermetically sealed starship. However that had been before the man had nearly been crushed to death inside a gas giant. Then his emotions had been tumultuous.

Frustration at him for going in spite of his illness more often than not but mostly concern. It was no fun dealing with a cold at the best of times and who knew what conditions would be like on an alien ship like that?

He was safely back now though. His cold mostly purged, especially after his extended stay in decon but Phlox had still signed him off for 24 hours with very strict instructions to rest. They’d had no chance to sleep while away and the lieutenant particularly was running on fumes. Which was amply evidenced by his easy acquiescence to the doctor’s instructions.

Trip had been manning his usual stations all day and had had no chance to go check on him. He had thought he might see him anyway at some point in the messhall but their paths hadn’t crossed. Some casual questioning seemed to indicate that Malcolm hadn’t been out of his quarters all day – not to the armoury, gym or messhall. It felt only friendly in that case to stop by and check his cold hadn’t made a resurgence and to take him some food.

It was not a date Trip told himself firmly as he assembled some tea and snacks on a tray. You needed agreement before any dates for a start. But this would be a step in the right direction. He’d never spent any time alone with Malcolm in quarters. At present he could best describe them as casual friends and that was perhaps being overly generous. This would move them firmly into the reliable friends category.

_If_ Malcolm actually let him in of course. The doubt didn’t cross his mind until he was stood in the corridor waiting for a response to the doorchime. He just had time to panic that he’d actually woken him up when the door slid open to reveal a rather dishevelled lieutenant. Trip couldn’t help but stare. What sort of blind fool had he been? The man was gorgeous.

Malcolm was out of uniform comfortably dressed in sweatpants and t-shirt. His hair was fluffy from having been washed and showed signs of being slept on recently. His relaxed face also hinted at an adorable sleepiness. That vanished though as soon as he recognised his guest and he immediately pulled himself upright.

“Commander. I was expecting Doctor Phlox.” His voice sounded hoarser than usual dulling the normal clipped enunciation.

“Oh.” Trip’s shoulders sank slightly. “Sorry. I shoulda checked if you minded me coming.” He glanced down at the tray in his hands unsure whether to offer it or not.

“Is that for me?”

He glanced up again.

“Realised ya hadn’t been out for food. And ya know what they say: Feed a cold, starve the flu.”

“That’s very kind.” There was an awkward pause before he added hesitantly. “Would you care to come in?”

“I don’t want ta intrude. Not if you were wanting to see Phlox.”

Malcolm stood aside to allow him to enter.

“I don’t need to see him,” he explained. “I just was expecting him to stop by to make sure I was following his advice.”

“And are ya?” Trip queried, his eyes watching Malcolm even as he put the tray down on the desk.

“Actually… yes.” Malcolm moved over to see what he’d brought. “I’ll admit, when he said 24 hours off duty I anticipated having 12 before checking the armoury or going to the gym but really, I’ve just been crashed out today. Guess I needed to sleep more than I thought. Is this earl grey?”

“With honey,” Trip confirmed. “Thought it would help your throat. How are ya feeling now?”

Malcolm cradled a cup in one hand and picked up a sandwich before heading over to sit on his bunk. Trip took the opportunity to settle into the room’s only chair.

“Much better. I felt like death warmed over on that ship. No doubt made worse by the lack of fluids and intolerable heat.” He took a sip from his drink as if reminded. “But by the time we were back, and after decon, I think I’d shaken the worst of it.”

“Glad to hear it.” Trip cast his gaze about the sparse room as Malcolm tucked into the sandwich. There really wasn’t anything much to mark the quarters from any other crew quarters. No family photos, just a painting of a sailing ship up on one wall. He did however notice a book out on the bed.

“What are ya reading?”

Malcolm cast a glance down and huffed a laugh.

“Reading would be a generous assessment. I thought I’d use the time getting into Ulysses. I got exactly two paragraphs in before I was fast asleep.”

Trip laughed and offered out another sandwich which Malcolm accepted with a grateful smile.

“Probably no bad thing,” he suggested.

“It’s a pivotal book in literary history,” Reed objected and Trip quickly raised his hands placatingly.

“I just meant you clearly needed the sleep.”

“Well, I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

Trip looked Malcolm over again as he focused on drinking his tea. He still looked tired. That taut, wary expression he habitually wore was gone. Although, Trip thought happily, that could just be because he felt comfortable and relaxed here in his quarters with Trip. His eyes settled on the messy bed hair and he wondered if it was as soft as it looked. Maybe Malcolm would let him tidy it up for him?

“Commander?” The worried tone indicated he’d zoned out and he quickly refocused his attention. “Are _you_ alright? You must have been working non stop to modify that shuttle.”

“I’m fine.” He smiled, touched by Malcolm’s concern. “And its Trip. We are both definitely off duty right now.”

Malcolm frowned in obvious puzzlement.

“But I thought you were here on Phlox’s behalf?”

Trip felt his hopes plummet as he realised Malcolm had only let him in because he believed it was an official visit.

“No. I’m here because that’s what people do when their friends are sick.”

“Oh. You didn’t have to do that. I’m better, as you can see.”

“Malcolm. You hadn’t eaten all day.”

“That’s not unusual for me, really.”

“That don’t make it better,” Trip exclaimed. “When you’re sick ya have to eat properly or you won’t get better. And if that means me giving up an hour or two to bring you food then that’s what I’ll do!”

He looked over to see Malcolm flushed in obvious embarrassment, his eyes lowered to his lap. Trip sighed in defeat.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted. Just… promise me you’ll finish the rest of the tea at least?”

“Yes Commander.”

Trip sighed again as he stood up and made to leave.

“Commander?” The soft tone perked his hopes up and he looked back in cautious optimism.

“Thank you.” Malcolm smiled timidly.

Trip offered a warm smile back.

“Sweet dreams lieutenant,” he offered. Malcolm tilted his head in acknowledgement before replying.

“The same to you.”

Trip found himself smiling stupidly all the way back to his quarters.


	14. Shadows of P'Jem

While T’Pol was with them Jonathan held his tongue. He didn’t want to drag her into what he felt was likely to be an emotional human mess. So he kept the conversation light and pleasant even while noticing Trip picking at his food and drifting into pensive silences. It probably made a calming change for T’Pol – and Jon secretly hoped she’d assume Tucker was behaving like this out of respect – but Jonathan knew he couldn’t ignore it.

So when T’Pol made her excuses and bid them goodnight he fixed his undivided attention on his friend. After a long wait he finally broke into the man’s thoughts.

“So are you going to tell me what’s wrong or will I have to order you?”

Trip started, showing just how much he’d lost himself in thought.

“Its nothing. Really,” he hedged.

Jon waited this time, confident Tucker would cave first. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Its just… I’m kinda nervous about this mission with Malcolm.”

Archer frowned, his mind running over the mission specifications. It should be a simple trip out, test the systems and head back to _Enterprise_. Sure they’d be on their own a while… The captain persona found itself jarring against Trip’s friend as he realised that might be what Trip meant. Nevertheless he queried,

“You think something will go wrong with the testing?”

“No. All the sims look good. Its just…” He shifted awkwardly. “Its gonna be several days. Alone. In a shuttle. With Malcolm.”

“And you don’t think you’ll get on that well?” Archer suggested hoping Trip would take the hint. He really didn’t want to be having a conversation with his best friend about fraternisation. Particularly not when he was almost sure the man had found his soulmate.

Sadly, subtlety wasn’t a Tucker attribute. He snorted.

“That is _not_ my problem. I’m scared I’m gonna say something stupid Jon. I’ve been trying to let him know I like him but I didn’t want to be too obvious and scare him off. But being stuck so close together… I just know I’ll do something to freak him out. Like hug him, or stroke his hair, or hell! Kiss him.”

“Trip,” Archer snapped harder than he mean to as he interrupted the rambling and let out a sigh at the surprised look he received in return. “When did you realise you had feelings for him?” he asked sympathetically.

Trip dropped his eyes to his plate again.

“Realised? A few weeks back. Probably fell for him a lot longer ago than that though. I was just too stupid to realise it.”

“You’re not stupid. But you know there’s a few very good reasons why you shouldn’t get involved don’t you?”

“Yeah. He’d probably thump me if I tried anything.”

Archer smiled wryly at that.

“I doubt he’d hit a superior officer.” He took a breath and steeled himself to make the conversation professional. “But that’s one reason this isn’t sensible.”

“What?” Trip frowned. “’cause he wouldn’t hit me?”

“Because it could be construed as coercing a junior officer.”

“No-on could think that. We ain’t in a direct chain of command. And if they did all I’d have to do is show them our-”

“Commander Tucker.” Captain Archer announced firmly. “I hope you weren’t about to suggest two of my officers might have matching soulmarks?” Trip swallowed and closed his mouth. “Because if you told me something like that, even as a friend, I would have to report it to Starfleet. You know the rules.”

“No need to do that,” Trip assured him. “Ya know we said quite clearly when we met they didn’t match.”

“And several times after,” Archer added.

“Yeah.” Trip stared at his hand and stroked the pattern. “And what kind of fool would it be not to recognise his soulmate when he found him?”

“A blind fool but perhaps not a stupid fool. If, hypothetically, two officers _had_ recognised themselves as soulmates then one or other – or more likely both – wouldn’t be serving with me now. And I’ve been glad a dozen times over of every officer on board.”

“I guess that’s true.” He fidgeted again. “What would you suggest? In that hypothetical situation? If two such officers did find themselves serving together?”

Jonathan knew the official answer to that but he wasn’t going to go there with Trip. This was an enquiry to a friend after all.

“If one was a hypothetical blabber mouth yank who wore his heart on his sleeve and the other a reserved proper officer who disapproves of public displays of affection?” he suggested.

Trip smiled.

“Something like that.”

“Don’t do anything rash. Keep things platonic until the situation changes.”

“You mean ‘til the end of the misson?”

“Maybe not. Starfleet are analysing how the crew find ways to work together. They might change the regulations.”

Trip sat quietly pondering that a minute.

“Its not like Malcolm even knows I’m obsessing over him anyhow,” he offered.

“Exactly,” Jon agreed, choosing to ignore the almost confession. “Don’t make things difficult for him too by putting him in a position where he has to choose between his heart and regulations. For one thing, I’m not sure you’d win.”

“No,” Trip sighed. “Me neither.”

He looked so sad at that idea that Jon’s romantic heart gave in.

“Which just means you’ll have to win him over.”

Trip looked at him in shock.

“But you said-”

“I said, keep things platonic,” he emphasised. “And really, I can’t see Malcolm as the type to give his heart without a proper courtship first.”

“So you’re saying I should… what? Woo him?”

“Just be nice to him. Show him he can rely on you. That you’ll be there. Let him see your finer qualities. Make sure he knows you see his.”

“I been doing that.” Trip nodded.

“And how’s it been going?”

“Alright.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “He don’t seem to mind my company so much anymore.”

Jon smiled, as always amused by Trip’s hopeless optimism.

“It doesn’t sound like your relationship’s really at the point of any declarations, is it?”

“Guess not.”

“So look on this away mission as a good opportunity to build some more bridges between you two.”

“Yeah. I know that really. Its just… since I actually realised how much he means to me, I just want to shout it from the rooftops, ya know?”

“How about telling an old friend?” Jon suggested amicably.

Trip suddenly looked wary.

“Thought I wasn’t supposed to be saying anything to you?”

“In which case you’d have already have said too much,” Jon pointed out. “There’s no regulation against you fancying someone Trip. Just starting a relationship or having matching soulmarks. You can talk to me about him all you want.”

“Really?” He beamed. “’cause I’m just about bursting to tell someone.”

“Yes, I picked up on that.” Archer smiled indulgently, causing Trip to drop his gaze bashfully.

“Do you wanna know what I think tipped the balance?” he asked. At Jon’s nod he continued. “You remember his birthday? When you got him that cake? And his face just sort of lit up. He was surprised you’d got his favourite. I realised then he didn’t expect to be noticed. Or appreciated. And I thought to myself – how could he think that about himself. You know?”

“I do.” Archer hesitated slightly. “For such a proud man and competent officer he does seem to have a fair few self-esteem issues.”

“Yeah. We gotta work on those.”

“If this whole thing accomplishes nothing else Trip, I hope you’ll at least be able to build up his confidence.”

“I intend to Jon. I’ll make sure he never doubts his importance again.”

Archer bit his lip from cautioning him again. Tucker had already noted it was best all round if he didn’t blurt out a confession of love. And he had no doubt he’d hold himself to that for Malcolm’s sake if nothing else. An evening gossiping with an old friend might even help curb his need to talk.

Even Trip should be able to endure a few days alone in a shuttlepod then.


	15. Shuttlepod One

It was a full body shiver that brought Trip awake and he didn’t immediately realise where he was. Was he dead? Was this the afterlife?

Then he recognised the sights and sounds of sickbay and let out a half choked sigh of relief. It had worked. They’d seen the explosion, increased their speed, got to them in time.

_Them_. His eyes snapped open. Malcolm. Was he…?

His neck protested the movement but the pain was worth it as he saw the lieutenant sleeping on the next bed. Tears pricked at his eyes as he remembered how close they’d come to dying.

And not just dying. He knew now how stupid he’d been to waste a single moment in telling this man he loved him. It had been the driving force behind his attempt to sacrifice himself in the airlock. That impulsive need to show Malcolm how much he valued him.

Trip’s eyes rested on the soulmark clearly visible where Reed’s hand rested atop the covers. A perfect match for his own which he’d felt was at least subconsciously acknowledged by Malcolm’s refusal to allow the sacrifice. Whatever their fate he’d insisted they share it together. And wasn’t that what being soulmates was all about?

Groggily, Trip pulled himself upright, dragging the blanket up about his shoulders. After taking a second to collect his senses he dropped down and padded across to the other bed. While he obviously knew Malcolm was alive and as well as he was, he felt he had to make sure.

Standing, looking down at the still grizzled face, he felt himself melt. Everything he’d ever wanted was lying right there. The best friend and truest love he’d ever known. Someone willing to die for him, _with_ him. Someone willing to pull him up when he was being an ass. Someone he wanted to protect with every fibre of his being.

He reached out and laid his patterned hand atop of Reed’s, reassured to feel the warmth of his skin. The touch however woke the lieutenant and Trip watched as pale eyes blinked themselves open and focused on him. Then the man went and smiled.

“Trip.”

Any and all walls Trip had remaining crumbled in the face of that softness.

“I love you.” He ran his hand tenderly over Malcolm’s and watched as a frown of confusion appeared. “I know you may not believe it but our soulmarks really _do_ match and asides from that I just… love you.”

It wasn’t his most elegant declaration but he was still disappointed when Malcolm briskly pulled his hand away.

“Are you trying to be humorous Commander?”

“No! No. Look for yourself.” He held up his abandoned hand for examination. “Waves.”

“I know they’re bloody waves,” Malcolm snapped, pulling himself more upright. “I knew they matched the moment I saw them!”

“You did?”

“Of course. You were the one who insisted they were _real similar_ ,” he drawled in a mocking Southern accent.

“So…” Trip tried to get his dazed mind round the fact Malcolm had apparently always recognised they were soulmates even if it had taken him seven months to reach the same conclusion. “You agree we’re ideally suited then?”

Malcolm glared.

“You think that’s it? After your repeated declaration that you’re ‘not gay’? Am I supposed to be pathetically grateful now you deign to acknowledge our connection? Do you know how long I’d dreamt of meeting my soulmate?” Malcolm hauled himself up to better glare at Trip. “How often I’d hoped I’d finally meet someone who loved me. _Really_ loved me.

“And then I saw you.” He searched Trip’s eyes and Trip saw a sort of helplessness he’d never seen before that damn near broke his heart. “You were everything I ever dreamt of Trip. Except… you didn’t want me either. Not even my own soulmate wanted me. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”

Trip had to swallow hard, his own heart burning at the pain he’d caused.

“Malcolm. I’m sorry. So sorry. I was a stupid idiot. Please though. Let’s not give up on everything we could have.”

Malcolm sank into himself, not meeting his eyes.

“My father always told me I shouldn’t put such stock in fairytale beliefs. That I should forge my own destiny. Well, I finally learnt to do so.”

“Malcolm. Darling. Ya don’t have to do that alone anymore.” He tried to reach for him again but Malcolm scooched back further.

“Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that.”

Trip nodded unhappily.

“I know I’ve hurt you. I can’t even begin to comprehend how much. And I get that I can’t just expect you to forgive me. But at least give me a chance to make things right.”

“You seem to have forgotten we’re Starfleet officers Commander.” He instinctively straightened. “Regulations forbid-”

“Damn regulations!” Trip interrupted more harshly than he meant to and Malcolm blinked at him in surprise. “If it meant I could win your heart I’d resign tomorrow. And I _do_ intend to win your heart Malcolm. I’ll prove to you I love you.”

“Don’t resign Trip-Commander. _Enterprise_ still needs her chief engineer.”

The slip with his name almost distracted him from the other obvious omission but then he couldn’t stop his nascent smile.

“But you’d let me woo ya?”

Malcolm huffed.

“Such an antiquated term,” he muttered not entirely disapprovingly before adding. “I don’t suppose I could stop you trying.”

Trip beamed.

“I am going to romance you like you ain’t ever been romanced,” he declared enthusiastically.

“Well that won’t be hard.” At Trip’s confused look he explained, “As I’m sure you gathered from my very many farewell messages I don’t exactly have a good track record in that department.”

“I meant to ask you about that,” Trip said awkwardly. “You told me you were gay – not bi. So what was with all the women?”

Malcolm gave him a contemplative look and Trip half expected him not to answer but then he started slowly.

“When I came out to my parents… it didn’t go over well. Father thought I was doing it to be different – or difficult perhaps. Mother assured me I just needed to meet the right girl. Between them they managed to convince me I was wrong.” He shook his head. “God help me but I believed them.

“So I dated women. Numerous women. Some clearly were not interested in me either but others actually figured me out. And unlike my parents some actually encouraged me to accept myself. Those were the ones I was writing to. The ones who became friends. Who believed in me even when I couldn’t.”

Trip reached out automatically to offer physical support or sympathy before realising it probably wouldn’t be welcome. He ended up awkwardly patting the bed.

“Thank you for telling me that.”

He found himself once again subject to Malcolm’s intense gaze before the Brit shook his head in bemusement.

“You’re exasperating. I hate you for what you’ve put me through. For expecting me now to welcome you with open arms.” He looked back to him. “But I actually _do_ want to welcome you with open arms. I’m as in love with you now as I was when I first saw you. Despite everything.”

“I’m gonna make things right Malcolm. You’ll see.”

Malcolm sighed.

“Just so we’re clear. I’m still angry at you.” He extended a hand anyway and Trip clasped at it. “But I’m very glad we’re both still here to have this argument.”

Trip impulsively kissed the hand in his and was pleased to see the resultant blush before Malcolm pulled his hand away, more reluctantly than before.

“Now let me get some rest,” he admonished. “I’m exhausted.”

“Of course darlin’.”

Trip left the blushing lieutenant and headed back to his own biobed realising he was exhausted too.

“Goodnight Commander,” the soft voice murmured to him as he shut his eyes before adding fondly, “Trip.”


	16. Fusion

Trying to prove your love while simultaneously not letting anyone else know was actually a lot harder than Trip anticipated. It was only when he found himself agreeing to too many of the tactical officer’s requests that he decided he needed a real plan.

Which was why he began taking extra treats from the galley, just so he could present them to Malcolm later when he wasn’t expecting it – after his shift, or at the gym, or just outside his quarters. This earned him pleased little smiles so he added in some proper gentlemanly behaviour. Just small things that most people wouldn’t notice. Like letting Malcolm precede him from the lift. Handing him tools as they worked together. Asking about his day and actually listening to him. It warmed Trip’s heart every time these actions brought him an appreciative look.

He knew he couldn’t rush Malcolm but he also felt it wouldn’t hurt to test their boundaries a little. He quickly realised any touching was out. Even a supportive hand on the arm made the lieutenant tense up so he carefully avoided unnecessary contact.

Company however seemed to be welcomed. Not that he’d dare a private visit to quarters yet but any offer to sit together or work together was unhesitantly accepted. It was this that prompted him to invite Malcolm to that week’s movie. It was something they’d done before so he didn’t think it would be unwelcome yet it was also undeniably a ‘date’ activity.

Malcolm considered the proposed invite carefully before agreeing which actually cheered Trip more than an immediate acceptance. It showed he too recognised the significance of the event. Their first date. Trip was so buoyed in fact that he added the offer to meet Malcolm at his quarters to walk him there before realising that might be too bold. However Malcolm simply smiled warmly and agreed to be ready when Trip arrived.

Trip reassessed that smile when he turned up at the man’s quarters later.

“Hoshi?”

“Malcolm said he was going to see the movie and asked if I’d like to come too. That’s alright isn’t it?”

He glanced past her to see the smirking tactical officer watching him challengingly.

“Of course it is,” he said with a deliberate air of gallantry before offering her his arm. As she took it he quirked his eyebrow and offered Malcolm the same privilege. That threw the officer and he looked taken aback before his face melted into a smile and he accepted Tucker’s other arm.

Trip didn’t miss the telling glance that passed between his companions and when they arrived at the temporary movie theatre he decided to put the ball in their court.

“I’ll get us some popcorn,” he offered. “You grab us some seats.”

He tried very hard not to glance their way as he grabbed a large snack bowl but his eyes quickly alighted on them again when he turned. A wave of relief swept him as he saw their chosen seating arrangement – Hoshi sat in the centre row, with Malcolm beside her, and the aisle seat next to him free. Practical of course, he thought as he approached but he’d half expected Malcolm to keep Hoshi between them.

Malcolm took the bowl from him as he sat.

“What film is it?” he asked and Trip couldn’t help but smirk.

“The English Patient.” At Malcolm’s inquisitive look he added. “It won awards. I think its about a British pilot shot down in a war.” He shrugged. “Thought it might be your type of thing.”

Malcolm smiled but said nothing else as the film began. Trip soon became completely lost in the sweeping scenery and emotional story but he couldn’t fail to notice the fidgeting man next to him. He looked across.

Hoshi was caught up in the love affair on screen, her attention absolutely riveted. Malcolm however was clearly not. He quickly picked up on Trip’s attention.

“How long is this?” he whispered.

Trip’s spirits sank as he recalled noticing the run time was nearly three hours. At the time he’d been thrilled at having Malcolm close so long. Now he wasn’t sure that fact wouldn’t turn against him.

“Probably another two hours,” he answered apologetically. Malcolm huffed softly and Trip watched as he turned his glare back to the screen. His own attention was distracted from the film now and he wondered if he could salvage the evening by taking a risk. He leant in.

“Do you want to bail?”

The offer evidently startled Malcolm and he instinctively looked to Hoshi who was oblivious still to his discomfort. Trip sensed Malcolm was about to refuse on her behalf so he quickly suggested, “Just the two of us.”

Malcolm looked back to him and briefly assessed what was on offer. Trip didn’t miss the slight lip lick before the man turned around and whispered to Hoshi. She jumped as reality came back to her but then she glanced between Trip and Malcolm and smirked. With a brisk nod she focused back on the screen, grabbing the remaining popcorn as she did.

Trip felt his own pulse jump as Malcolm’s breath drifted across his cheek.

“Let’s go then.”

He quickly slid out of his seat and led them into the corridor.

“Well that’s an hour of my life I’m not getting back,” Malcolm declared as he fell into step beside Trip.

“It weren’t _that_ bad.”

Malcolm’s glance was probably fonder than he meant.

“You’re a hopeless romantic aren’t you?” he queried unnecessarily.

“Guilty as charged.”

Malcolm shook his head but said nothing further as they walked. Trip edged slightly closer so his hand brushed against his. It brought him an inquisitive glance but no outright objection so he continued to walk close, letting their fingers brush every step. By the time they got to the lift he was practically vibrating with anticipation and as soon as the doors shut he clasped the hand in his.

“Trip.” It was vaguely admonishing but since the lieutenant was easily capable of retrieving his own hand and _didn’t_ , Trip decided to be bold. He kept his eyes on Malcolm’s as he quite deliberately raised the hand and kissed the knuckles. One by one.

There was another tantalising lip lick before Malcolm said “Trip,” again, this time far more breathlessly.

Trip shifted closer and slowly leant in, fully intending on helping Malcolm with that lip wetting thing, when a hand landed firmly on his chest.

“No,” Malcolm said gently but determinedly.

Trip immediately stepped back and released his hand with a nod of acceptance.

“Can I walk you to your quarters?” he asked softly and Malcolm smiled again.

“I’d like that.”

As the lift doors opened again and they continued their journey, Trip deliberately kept his hands folded behind his back to avoid further temptation.

“I’m sorry the film was such a bust.”

Malcolm shrugged unconcernedly.

“The evening hasn’t been _all_ bad.” He cast a coy glance over at Trip. “And your face when you saw Hoshi was a picture.”

Trip laughed good humouredly.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “I like Hoshi. Just not as much as I’d have liked to have you all to myself.”

Malcolm ducked his head.

“Trip. I… I’m not…Its…”

“Its alright,” Trip assured him. “I’m willing to wait as long as you need to trust me. And if you want a chaperone, I’ll make no objection.”

“I know.” They drew up outside Malcolm’s quarters and he turned to face Trip. “I’m not afraid of you,” he explained. “I just need to be sure…”

“That I’m not going to tear your heart to pieces again? Yeah. I get that.”

There was a pause as neither seemed to know quite what to say next.

“Thank you for this evening Trip.”

Trip nodded and was about to apologise again for the film when Malcolm suddenly darted forward and kissed his cheek. He gawked stupidly as Malcolm smiled shyly and disappeared into his room without a word, the door shutting silently in his wake. Several seconds late though his senses returned and he grinned.

“Yes!”

“I heard that,” came the muffled reply and Trip laughed.

“Sorry,” he called before laying his hand on the door and adding, “Night Malcolm.”

“Goodnight Trip,” came the fond reply.


	17. Rogue Planet

Trip had expected Malcolm to voice an objection over them sharing a tent. Not that he had any intention of doing anything improper – though he was hopeful of maybe a kiss goodnight – and he trusted Malcolm knew that. He’d made an extra special point of behaving like a perfect gentleman round him and of course Malcolm was more than capable of fending him off if he did try anything.

Still it warmed his heart to think that Malcolm was at least comfortable enough for them to do this. Although he didn’t look all that comfortable now as he knelt by his sleeping bag with a thoughtful expression.

“Trip.”

A surge of affection swept him at the use of his name and for a second he just grinned stupidly before responding.

“Hhmm?”

Malcolm shot him a familiar exasperated look.

“You’ve never been in a relationship with a man. I wonder if you know quite what to expect.”

The laugh burst out of him before he could help it.

“Malcolm. I _am_ a man. Don’t reckon you’ll have anything I haven’t seen before.”

“I know that,” Malcolm snapped in frustration. “That wasn’t what I meant. I’m not explaining this very well I know.” He sighed and looked across to Trip hesitantly. “You said… you loved me.”

Trip opened his mouth to reaffirm that but Malcolm held up a silencing hand.

“Love and attraction are two different things though, Trip. Just because you love me doesn’t necessarily mean you want a physical relationship with me.”

Trip couldn’t help but cast his gaze down the lieutenant’s body. It was rather too concealed right now but he’d seen enough before to visualise some of the temptations currently covered.

“Trust me.” He swallowed hard. “I am just as attracted to you physically as emotionally.”

“Really?”

“Are you kidding? You were getting me hot and bothered before I was willing to admit it _was_ you getting me hot and bothered.”

“Really?” This time the word was said with much less incredulity and far more interest. “So what about me do you like?”

Malcolm’s posture had gone from awkward to posing. Well, if he wanted to be flattered, Trip was more than happy to oblige.

“Your eyes,” he stated unequivocally. The comment seemed to throw him before a smile lit up his face.

“My eyes?”

“Uh huh. They’re so… changeable. Stormy. They can be hard as ice or soft as polar clouds.”

Malcolm fluttered his eyelashes and Trip wasn’t entirely sure it was a conscious action. Nevertheless it drew his attention onwards.

“Your cheekbones,” he continued. “Or your whole bone structure really. Its an engineering marvel of perfect proportions and balance.” His eyes dropped further and he found himself licking his lips in anticipation. “Your lips.”

Said lips pursed as he frowned.

“There’s no need to exaggerate,” he admonished. “I know they’re too thin. Pinched.”

“Bet they’d plump up nicely if I kissed them enough,” Trip suggested hopefully. He still hadn’t tasted those lips yet. “But I ain’t lying. I like them as they are, fine and elegant. Almost too fine for a hick like me.”

“You aren’t a _hick_ , Trip. You pretend to be less intelligent than you are. Lord knows why.”

Trip smiled to himself as he recognised the compliment but he didn’t dwell on it.

“People always underestimate me ‘cause of my accent anyway.” He shrugged. “May as well make the most of their misconceptions.”

“It’s a tactical decision then?”

Trip shrugged again, not so interested in discussing himself as continuing his list of Malcolm’s desirable qualities.

“Your hands.”

Malcolm obligingly raised them for examination and Trip happily went forward to run his rough fingers over them.

“They’re wonderfully dextrous. Bet they’d feel real good wrapped around my-”

Malcolm abruptly entwined their fingers and squeezed hard in warning.

“My shoulders,” Trip concluded innocently, though not without a lazy smile. He returned his gaze to their clasped hands and twisted them about to eye the pattern encircling them. He shook his head.

“I was such a fool,” he murmured, raising Malcolm’s hand to kiss the back where the pattern flowed smoothly.

“What else?” prompted Malcolm quietly, drawing his thoughts from the mistakes of the past. Trip cast his gaze appraisingly over the man waiting expectantly before him.

“Your muscles," he finally answered. Malcolm snorted.

“I’m hardly muscular.”

“Your strength then,” Trip corrected. “You may not have bulging biceps but you got muscles in all the right places. Perfectly toned. Like a classical sculpture.”

“Oh?” Malcolm shifted and Trip released his hands. He watched in near awe as Malcolm slipped his arms out of his sleeves and let the top of his jumpsuit slip to his waist. Then he slowly stretched.

“Yeah,” Trip murmured appreciatively, clenching his fists to keep from reaching out. Malcolm smiled. He was probably aiming for smug but came across as bashful.

“Anything else?” he asked in a whisper.

Trip found himself swallowing hard, unable to stop his body as it started to react to the sight in front of him, or keep his mind from racing. His nails dug hard into his palms and he had to uncurl his hands to prevent injury.

“Your… thighs.”

He blushed. It was not what he’d first thought but he couldn’t bring himself to cite the lieutenant’s ass yet. The last thing he wanted was to panic him. And if by some miracle it _didn’t_ , the last thing he could handle would be a sight of that.

Malcolm lowered his own hands to lay spread out on his thighs, the fabric of his uniform still hiding the flesh.

“These?” he asked teasingly and Trip could no longer help himself. Without any forethought his hands dashed forward to spread his fingers between Malcolm’s. His eyes shut at the heady feeling of warmth soaking up into his palms and he groaned softly.

Then his eyes snapped open in sudden terror and looked directly into Malcolm’s smokey gaze.

“Guess you really are attracted to me,” he commented lowly. All Trip could do in response was nod. He didn’t dare speak or move, unwilling to do anything that might disturb the moment.

“Trip.” Malcolm raised one of his hands and he briefly noticed it was shaking before it came to rest against his face. He let his eyes drift closed again momentarily before staring once again at Malcolm. Who was looking about as desperate as he felt.

“Trip,” he said again. “You have to know…”

He waited anxiously as Malcolm searched for the words to finish that sentence. When it seemed that wasn’t going to happen he whined softly.

“Malcolm.”

He heard a soft gasp before suddenly Malcolm’s face was much closer to his, the delicate fingers caressing his cheek and his breath warming his lips.

“You have to know,” he whispered again. “You mean everything to me.”

Trip’s breath hitched at the admission and he shut his eyes in anticipation of leaning into Malcolm’s kiss.

“Trip! Lieutenant!” Archer’s voice caused them to scramble inelegantly apart, lips still unclaimed, but breath still coming in short gasps. They both looked anxiously to the entrance, thankfully still zipped. “Get out here!”

Trip cursed even as Malcolm sighed in relief that the captain had not in fact seen them.

“Jon’s got lousy timing,” Trip muttered, waiting for both his body to calm and the lieutenant to pull his uniform back into place.

“It could have been worse,” he was reminded even as Reed shifted past him to report for duty.

Trip cast a disgruntled look after him, utterly sure that this interruption would make Malcolm think twice if they got the chance for any further alone time. And that thought certainly made Trip less than sympathetic to the captain’s tales of night visions.


	18. Acquisition

It wasn’t long after they returned from the rogue planet that they found themselves at the mercy of alien scavengers. And after that everyone was so busy checking inventories and testing equipment or systems that the two department heads hardly even managed to fit in any meals together let alone another date. So Trip was particularly grateful that Archer had agreed to the crew holding a New Year’s Eve party.

Not that he thought he could explicitly go with Malcolm but at least they’d both be there, right?

He realised how wrong he’d been to be so optimistic pretty quickly. Malcolm was there alright and dressed in a very fetching combination of grey jacket, dark pants, and what Trip very much believed was a silk shirt of silver. He looked gorgeous and it quite clearly wasn’t just Trip who noticed.

After exchanging a friendly greeting with the commander, Malcolm had naturally gone to socialise with his team. Trip watched long enough to see him easily welcomed into their conversation before turning back to his own group. He couldn’t stop himself from casting glances over every now and then though.

Malcolm looked so relaxed, a far cry from the last couple of days. Calm and happy among people he clearly trusted and respected. And they were obviously hanging on his every word. A tiny frown creased Trip’s brow as he noticed an ensign offer Reed a drink. The man looked pleased as punch when Malcolm took the glass from him with a polite smile.

After that Trip found himself watching the interactions more carefully, keeping the armoury team in his peripheral vision. It seemed to him a number of the crew were trying to catch Malcolm’s eye. There was an intimate circle gathered around him, all apparently attempting to engage him in conversation. No-one had dared touch him yet but after a few more drinks Trip had no doubt someone would.

He excused himself from his own crowd and headed to the make shift bar himself. It wasn’t that he thought Malcolm would accept any of their offers – and any unwelcome contact may well result in an injury – but he didn’t like the fact he couldn’t go over and tell them: hands off. In any normal relationship everyone would know they were dating and respectfully back off. This evening was so far only managing to remind him of all the restrictions they were under and it sucked.

He had, rather hopefully it had to be admitted, entertained some notion of catching Malcolm alone before midnight was announced and welcoming the new year in with a kiss. It was obvious now that _that_ wouldn’t be happening. And that sucked too.

He took a vindictive swallow of whatever alcoholic beverage it was he’d picked up and instinctively looked back to Malcolm. Somewhat to his surprise he appeared to be excusing himself from the adoring throng and Trip perked up.

Only to be disappointed seconds later as the lieutenant made a bee-line for Hoshi who had apparently also left her group to meet him. Their heads quickly dipped together as they began a hushed conversation and Trip felt an irrational burst of jealousy.

“Is the punch that bad?”

Jon’s voice startled him and he wondered how long the man had been observing him. He hoped he hadn’t seen him staring blatantly after Malcolm.

“Nah,” he answered with an attempt at a grin. “Just feeling the isolation I guess. Being so far from everyone on Earth.”

“It’s a hell of a thing though isn’t it? Celebrating Earth’s new year way out here in deep space.”

“That it is,” Trip agreed, relaxed now it seemed Jon wasn’t about to call him on mooning over the armoury officer.

“I had to try and explain the celebration to T’Pol earlier. She doesn’t see the logic in commemorating a seasonal event on a starship.”

That drew a grin out of Trip.

“Suppose it don’t make much sense when put like that.”

“No,” Archer smiled too. “Hoshi had better luck explaining it as an Earth unification event. A recognition of our shared planetary heritage.”

Trip felt his gaze automatically drift over to where Hoshi was still in close company with Malcolm and he remembered she had her own crush on the Vulcan officer. He wondered how that was going for her. He also wondered if Jon knew anything about it.

His gaze must have lingered too long because he heard the amused tone in Jon’s voice as he spoke again.

“Malcolm looks nice tonight.”

Trip brought his eyes back to his friend and valiantly fought off a blush.

“Are you saying I don’t?” he challenged, hoping to distract the man from teasing him about his own affections. He knew he wouldn’t be able to lie convincingly if asked.

Luckily Jon took the bait and laughed.

“In that shirt?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Trip demanded, dramatically looking down at himself. In truth it was one of his favourites although he’d long since accepted not everyone shared his flamboyant taste.

“It’s a little… loud,” Jon offered diplomatically with an entirely undiplomatic grin.

“I’ll have you know, every member of the engineering team has loved it.”

“I’ll make sure and have Phlox give them all eye tests.”

Trip was about to retort when a slight motion drew his eye and he turned to see Hoshi smiling up at him.

“Commander. Would you dance with me?”

He instinctively glanced past her to see if he could see Malcolm but the other man had disappeared. Nevertheless he smiled back at Hoshi.

“I’d be delighted.”

As she took his hand to pull him away Trip couldn’t resist sticking his tongue out at Jon and gesturing triumphantly to his shirt. Archer just shook his head. Once they were safely out of earshot though he turned his attention back to Hoshi.

“Did Malcolm leave already?”

He had no hesitation about her knowing his infatuation. Malcolm had already confirmed what Trip had suspected which was that the lieutenant spoke to her about pretty much everything. She’d fast become Trip’s second favourite person for that.

“No. He’s waiting for midnight. But I thought I should rescue you from the captain before then.”

“I don’t mind talking to Jon,” he protested. She smiled indulgently.

“I know. But I was rather assuming you’d want to spend the count down with Malcolm. If not…” She made to pull away from their dance, which he now realized had a distinct direction to it, and he quickly stopped her.

“No! I mean. I do wanna be with Malcolm at midnight. Is he waiting for me? Do I gotta meet him somewhere?”

Her laugh was gentle rather than unkind.

“He hasn’t gone anywhere. He’s just over there. See?”

He looked where she indicated and a second later spotted him. A smile pulled at his lips as he recognised the pose – blending into the shadows against the wall.

“The captain might notice if you both leave,” she added apologetically. “But he’ll probably be a bit distracted at midnight.”

“Not distracted enough for us to share a kiss though,” Trip pointed out with obvious disappointment. Hoshi smiled enigmatically as she released him.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she offered before slipping from his grasp and heading to where T’Pol was talking to the captain. Trip spared a moment to wonder just how much manoeuvring was going on tonight before deciding he better just make the most of the opportunity.

Most people were gathering centrally as all eyes watched the screen for the countdown, leaving Trip and Malcolm all by themselves on the outskirts. It felt both hideously exposed and amazingly intimate.

“Lieutenant,” he greeted quietly beneath the noise of numbers being chanted.

“Commander.” Malcolm’s voice was low as if he still feared being overheard. “I have something for you.” He extended a hand with a small shiny object resting in the palm. Trip smiled as he recognised it. A Hersey kiss. His eyes watered despite himself and he wrapped his fingers around both chocolate and hand as the cheers broke out behind them.

“Happy New Year Trip.”

“Happy New Year darlin’.”


	19. Oasis

He’d done something wrong though he had no idea _what_. It didn’t seem likely it was his visit to sickbay even if it was coincidentally just as Malcolm was getting his bruises looked at. Trip had made sure he had a perfectly valid reason of his own for being there, having previously offered to fetch some lettuce for the doctor’s slugs.

That had nevertheless been the point at which he’d realised Malcolm was pissed at him. Now, off duty and alone in his quarters, he tried to figure out how he’d managed to screw up. All he’d done on that visit was casually gone over to the lieutenant and enquired if he was still fit for duty. An utterly reasonable and professional enquiry, even if his eyes had been drifting where they shouldn’t.

Reed had stared somewhere past his shoulder and snapped that _he_ was always ready to attend to his duty no matter the distractions. Trip was so stunned by the response that he’d just answered ‘ _glad to hear it_ ’ and stomped out. And he was still flummoxed by it. At what point had Tucker _not_ attended his duty? He and Malcolm were almost paranoid about their efficiency and punctuality. They never stayed a second late over meals and kept completely focused when working in tandem.

To be honest it was driving Trip crazy, the lack of any alone time or intimacy. Although he understood the need for secrecy he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted at times to just catch him unaware at some isolated juncture and kiss him senseless. But despite temptation he was sure he hadn’t crossed any of their wordlessly agreed boundaries.

The door chime distracted him from his circling thoughts and he readily called out “Come on in,” as he pulled himself upright on the bunk. The sight of a visibly tense lieutenant had him on his feet instantly.

“Mal- Lieutenant. Ah. Is there something I can do for you?”

Reed looked like he was only just restraining himself from decking him as he stepped quickly inside. The door slid shut behind him but he didn’t halt his advance. Trip instinctively tried to move back only to be blocked by his bed.

“Wha-”

He was unceremoniously halted by Malcolm seizing his face and crashing their lips together.

His first thought was that it hurt as his nose collided with a cheekbone and teeth jarred against his. The second was that this was not what he’d imagined their first kiss would be like.

His third thought was the realisation this was not really a kiss. It was more like Malcolm was trying to imprint himself upon him. Trip wrenched his face away and reached up to grab Malcolm’s hands, still not convinced he wasn’t about to be punched.

“What the hell was that about?” he demanded, softening his words by rubbing what he hoped were comforting circles in Malcolm’s palms with his thumbs. The other man continued to stare hard at him, jaw grinding as he stubbornly remained silent. “It wasn’t exactly the first kiss I’d envisaged,” he added.

That triggered a reaction and Malcolm went from angry to defeated in an instant. His head dropped down and Trip felt him let out a shuddering breath as he leant forward to rest his forehead on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Trip stopped rubbing circles and instead embraced him. “Its okay. But do you mind telling me what brought this on?”

There was a pause before Malcolm muttered,

“I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” Malcolm nodded against him. “Of Liana?” Another nod. Trip couldn’t help but huff in disbelief. “You ain’t got no reason to be jealous of her.”

Malcolm pulled away with a renewed flare of anger.

“She was fawning all over you!”

“So? I wasn’t fawning over _her_. Honestly, she just reminded me of my little sister. She used to follow me round like that too.”

“She was pretty though,” Malcolm challenged. “And you do have an eye for a pretty woman.”

“This isn’t about Liana at all is it?” Trip deduced. “This is because in the past my preference has always been women.”

Malcolm’s gaze dropped.

“You weren’t exactly thrilled when you first saw my soulmark,” he pointed out.

“No. I was a dick about it. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make up for that. But I swear I’m not going to be tempted elsewhere. Certainly not just because they’ve got a pair of breasts!”

“You’re really sure? This is what you want? _I’m_ what you want? Because she seemed-”

“Absolutely,” Trip interrupted, unwilling to entertain Malcolm’s doubts. “I thought I’d made that clear already?” He ran a hand across a shoulder and up to cup a cheek preventing Malcolm from ducking his head again. He still dipped his eyes.

“You told me so. And I believed you. But… well, its been a while now and we still hadn’t kissed…”

“I was trying to be discrete and gentlemanly about it. Letting you set the pace. If I’d realised you were worried I was having second thoughts…”

Malcolm sighed and nuzzled into his palm, eyes shutting.

“I buggered it up didn’t I? Our first kiss should have been something romantic. Not a jealous lunge.”

“Well. I buggered up our first meeting and we still managed to find our way to this point didn’t we?”

“Somehow.” Malcolm agreed, opening his eyes to watch him.

“And to my mind,” Trip continued, “that wasn’t really a kiss, so we’ve got another chance at that too.”

“I’d like that.”

Trip licked his lips, suddenly awkwardly aware of the pressure he was putting on this.

“Why don’t we sit down?” He sank back down on the bunk. Malcolm glanced at the rumpled sheets before gingerly sitting next to him. He looked expectantly at Trip.

Who immediately stood up again.

“We should have some music,” he declared, stepping across to the computer. “You got any preference?”

He started bringing up his romantic playlists. There was a vague sigh behind him before he heard Malcolm rise.

“Trip.” He rested a hand on his shoulder and the engineer glanced back to see a beseeching look. “I don’t need music. All I need is you.”

Trip let out a slow breath and turned.

“And you got me.”

“Good.” Malcolm ran his hands over his shoulders and lightly pulled. Trip went willingly, his own hands sliding about Malcolm’s waist. This time, he had the opportunity to feel warm breath across his lips before they were gently introduced to Malcolm’s. It was only the briefest pressure before Malcolm withdrew though and Trip watched anxiously as he wet his lips.

“Sorry,” Malcolm murmured. “My lips are chapped.”

Trip felt a swell of relief and lifted his hands to catch at his head and pull him close again.

“I don’t care,” he answered before sealing his own lips to Malcolm’s.

It was a little awkward as they worked out how best to fit together. They bumped noses as each attempted to change the angle and Trip’s lips found themselves losing Malcolm’s as he tried to caress his upper lip only to find himself mouthing his philtrum.

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Malcolm huffed, nevertheless with a pleased smile. He gave Trip a gentle shove until he sat on the bed and then situated himself on his lap. “Now hold still,” he instructed.

Trip dutifully let Malcolm take charge and this time was much better. As his lips were encouraged open with a questing tongue he wrapped his arms around Malcolm to anchor himself and also to prevent the other man pulling away.

A part of him knew they’d have to part soon – the lieutenant couldn’t risk being seen sneaking out of his quarters too late – but he also felt as if the moment should never end. If they could only stay like this forever he’d be happy.

And as Malcolm moaned and ran a hand into his hair, he knew he felt exactly the same.


	20. Detained

“How’s that feelin’? Any better?”

“Hhmm. Much. Thank you.”

Trip smiled contentedly down at the man laid out with his head in his lap. He had thought Malcolm might feel guilty at making the most of recent events but it seemed he was a tactical specialist through and through. It might have been different if Travis and the captain were truly injured of course but luckily they were both basically fine.

The doctor had treated all their cuts and bruises as soon as they were back on board but then determined he’d like to keep them under observation a while longer following their ordeal. Archer had argued and wheedled all the time Malcolm was getting his prosthetics removed but had finally yielded to spending the rest of the day in sickbay. It was likely primarily because he’d never forgive himself if it turned out Travis needed further attention but it meant both of them staying put with Phlox.

And Malcolm spending a relaxing evening in Trip’s quarters.

Rather too relaxing Trip reflected ruefully, eyes scanning over the still slightly reddened skin. Kissing was out, given the adverse reaction he’d suffered to his Suliban make-up, but Trip had still enjoyed smoothing in the calming lotion the doctor had provided. And he was thrilled that Malcolm wanted to spend time like this with him. Not doing anything, just existing together.

Trip ran his fingers tenderly through the soft hair.

“You know, I’d like to take you out some time. On a proper date.”

“Oh?” Malcolm didn’t open his eyes. “Where to?” he asked curiously.

The fact that the lieutenant was willing to indulge in daydreaming about their future – even if it was only speculating about being able to date properly – made his heart skip a beat.

“I don’t know. Something cultural. Like a museum.”

“A museum?” Malcolm opened his eyes and smiled up at him in amusement. “I can’t imagine you having much patience for that sort of thing.”

“Depends on the museum. I always liked the aeronautical one in Washington.”

“Hhmm. The Museum of Flight? Not bad.”

“And after that,” Trip continued eagerly. “Some place fancy for dinner. You know the type of thing. Ten kinds of cutlery and food you ain’t ever even heard of.”

Malcolm laughed.

“You don’t need to _win_ me Trip. We’re soulmates. Whether we like it or not.”

Trip pulled the familiar marked hand up to reverently kiss it.

“I like it a lot,” he insisted. “And I’ll spoil you as much as I like.”

Grey eyes stared up at him, and the smile continued to hover round his lips.

“Alright,” he agreed softly. “So, dinner at the Ritz.”

“All followed by a romantic moonlit stroll.”

“Hhmm.” That hum didn’t sound quite as enthusiastic as Trip would have liked and he found himself frowning in concern.

“What? Isn’t that what you’d like?”

“Oh! It sounds lovely dear.” Malcolm lifted a hand to caress his cheek reassuringly. “Its just not what I’d have imagined.”

“Oh?” Trip couldn’t help but smile at the comprehension Malcolm had obviously spent some time imagining them dating. “And what did you have in mind?”

“Nothing as romantic or elaborate I’m afraid.”

Malcolm fell silent and Trip realised he was embarrassed. He started to stroke his hair again before humming,

“Tell me anyway.”

“Well…” Malcolm hesitated and sighed. “I always thought it would be a lot less formal. You know. You might take me to some dreadful American sporting event.”

“Like football?”

“Its not _football_. Its essentially rugby.”

“Or maybe some baseball,” Trip suggested unconcernedly.

“Grown up rounders,” Malcolm muttered before continuing. “And you’d insist we eat fast food. Hot dogs or burgers.”

“You really were expecting to be romanced weren’t you?” Trip teased.

Malcolm glared but then his expression softened.

“After the game, you’d take me to a funfair. A proper one with rides and stalls.”

Trip looked down at him thoughtfully.

“Have you never been to a funfair?” Malcolm shook his head. “Then I’ll certainly take you to one,” he promised.

“Will you take me on all the rides?”

“Every one of them,” he declared. “Some of them twice.”

“And I’ll win you a toy from one of those ridiculous rigged shooting galleries.”

Trip laughed.

“I’ll hold you to that darling. I expect you to win the biggest toy they have.”

“And I shall,” Malcolm answered stubbornly before smiling up at him again. “Will you kiss me on the Ferris Wheel?”

“I’ll kiss you everywhere.” Malcolm slapped his arm in playful admonishment. “Wish I could kiss you now,” Trip added.

Malcolm gazed happily up at him.

“We could probably manage. If you’re careful.”

Trip cautiously leant down and pressed an upside down kiss to waiting lips. The smell of ointment was not appealing but the thrill of being the one to kiss Malcolm outweighed that. All too soon though he sat back up, conscious of the delicate skin. Malcolm sighed and caught his hand in his again.

“Do you think it’ll ever happen?”

It took Trip a second to understand the question.

“We’ll be together Malcolm. One way or another.”

“Yes, but I don’t want either way to involve one of us giving up our career.”

“Maybe Starfleet will rethink the regulations,” Trip suggested. “After all we’re basically acting as a trial out here for them.”

“And why should they rethink them? Authorities never change anything unless they _have_ to. That’s why the Navy is still stuck with absolutely ridiculous old traditions.”

“Hey.” Trip raised the hand to kiss it again. “Maybe they’ll see how well we work together and realise soulmates make pretty good teammates. And we’ve been nothing but considerate ain’t we? Putting the rules before our relationship. That’s what they want.”

“ _Bending_ the rules for our relationship,” Malcolm countered, pulling his hand back and looking contemplatively at Trip. “Firstly, we haven’t always been an exemplary example of co-operation.” Trip had to admit he had a point there. “And secondly, how would they reach that conclusion without being informed we are soulmates? At which point one or both of us would be immediately dismissed from service.”

There was an expectant pause as Malcolm waited for Trip to answer.

“Fine,” he eventually conceded. “But I’m not giving up on us. We’ll get through this mission and then I’ll take a job in San Fran. I’m sure they’ll want someone with my expertise on warp development. And you can continue serving on-”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Malcolm interrupted. “If you’re staying on Earth I won’t be flying off back into space. I’ll work in research and development. I have some… connections.”

The awkward hesitance of that last comment passed Trip by as he was still focused on the main point.

“You’d give up active service? To stay with me?”

He was treated to another glare.

“Of course. I believe I _did_ tell you what finding my soulmate meant to me didn’t I?”

Trip completely forgot himself and swooped down to kiss him.

“ _Ow!_ Bloody hell Trip!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Trip winced in sympathy as he saw the brighter red marks he’d left in his too enthusiastic wake. “Do you want me to put more lotion on?”

Malcolm pouted and considered him carefully before answering.

“I rather think you should.”

As Trip gently began administering to him again he offered,

“I do love you. You know that right?”

Malcolm sighed and closed his eyes, visibly relaxing again.

“And I love you too, you ridiculous man.”

Trip smiled.


	21. Vox Sola

Trip had honestly never been so nervous, though in his defence he had plenty of reason to be. Archer now knew without a shadow of a doubt – due to the unasked for shared consciousness gifted them by their alien captor – that not only were he and Malcolm soulmates, but they were dating.

Which meant he would have to report it to Starfleet of course and _that_ meant he and Malcolm were likely going to face disciplinary action. Not that Trip cared on his own behalf so much but he knew how much his Starfleet career meant to Malcolm. He’d disregarded family tradition for it and created a rift with his father that might never heal.

Almost definitely wouldn’t when this got back to him.

Trip hadn’t realised he’d started wringing his hands until one was seized in a firm grasp. He looked over to see Malcolm gazing at him in concern.

“Stop blaming yourself Trip. You couldn’t have anticipated a telepathic attack. No-one could.”

“I know. I just keep thinking though… if I hadn’t been so slow in accepting I could love a guy… you… if we’d told the captain straight away-”

“Then neither of us would have got to serve on _Enterprise_.” Malcolm interrupted sternly.

“But at least it wouldn’t be a black mark on yer record.”

“I accepted this as a possibility when we started dating. Well, not the alien group mind thing… and I had hoped we’d have had a little longer, but it’s a situation I prepared for nonetheless.”

“How’ll you tell your father?”

Malcolm’s face set and he turned back to face the closed door.

“One problem at a time Commander. Let’s face the captain first.”

Without waiting for a reply he reached out and rang the door chime.

“Come in.” The immediate response did nothing to reassure either of them and they shared another glance before obeying.

The captain was sat at his desk but turned to face them. Porthos was on the bed and lifted his head hopefully at their entrance. As they fell into parade rest though the dog sullenly lay down again.

“Gentlemen. I trust I don’t need to explain why you’re here?”

“No sir,” they chorused before Reed announced,

“It was not the Commander’s fault sir.”

“What?” Trip exclaimed, immediately dropping his formal posture to stare.

“Commander Tucker genuinely believed our marks did not match when we met. If anyone is to be accused of deceit it should be me.”

“Now hold on,” Tucker declared. “You were prepared to maintain a professional working relationship. It was me who convinced you to date. Sir,” he turned to Archer. “If anyone should be punished its me.”

“Gentlemen.” Archer raised his hands to indicate silence and then stood. “While I admire your attempts to shield each other, no-one is being punished.”

Trip’s mouth dropped open and he stared dumbly. Reed was more coherent.

“Sir?”

Archer looked pleased to have surprised them both.

“That business with the renegade Vulcans was very interesting,” he said apropos of nothing. “And I learnt a lot of valuable information. One of the things T’Pol felt inclined to share with me was to do with legal attitudes to something she called mind melds. It seems anything perceived while under a telepathic influence is inadmissible evidence.” He grinned.

“So… Anything you saw in my mind…?”

“Just thoughts. It couldn’t even be proved they were yours and not some form of self-projecting.”

Malcolm shifted uneasily.

“And our statements just now?”

“As I recall you informed me that Commander Tucker did not believe your soulmarks matched. That’s no more than was reported at the time.”

“And me and my blabbermouth?” Trip cringed.

“Trip.” Jon stepped forward to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We’ve both been through a most unusual ordeal. Its likely our minds are not clear and our words cannot be taken as entirely accurate.”

Trip sagged in clear relief but next to him Malcolm was still tense.

“And do Rostov and Kelly understand the situation the same way?”

Archer moved to stand before the rigid officer.

“I spoke to them both. They understood that for reasons of privacy – which I pointed out would work both ways,” he glanced to Trip. “And for issues of legality, they should refrain from speaking about anything they think they saw.”

“They’re good people,” Trip commented. “They won’t want to cause trouble.”

Malcolm finally let his posture ease.

“Thank you Captain.”

“Its not quite so simple,” Jon added apologetically taking a step back to view them both. “When I was talking to T’Pol about the issues of telepathy as evidence, despite me not mentioning your names, she deduced this had to do with a developing relationship between you two.”

The men in question shared a look and it was clear their thoughts were running the same way. Malcolm had confided in Hoshi. Hoshi had started her own relationship with T’Pol and the Vulcan now knew about them.

Archer continued oblivious to this silent undercurrent.

“She sees no logic in interfering in human affairs. Her role isn’t to report back to Starfleet Command so there’s no danger there. However it does suggest a degree more discretion might be required.”

They shared another glance and wordlessly agreed not to mention Hoshi’s role in this development even if it meant accepting an additional restraint.

“Yes sir,” Reed acknowledged instead.

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Tucker added.

“You’re sure? I know you Trip. Subtlety isn’t your strong suit.”

“Hey. I can be restrained when I need to. Can’t I?” he appealed to Malcolm.

“I believe the phrase is a perfect gentleman,” Malcolm offered in response.

“I’m serious.” Archer swept his gaze between the two. “I’m already bending the rules more than I should and casting a blind eye to what I shouldn’t. I’m trusting you two to behave professionally. That means no overly friendly behaviour in public. No late visits to each others’ quarters. Try to spend a reasonable amount of time with other people. Trip, that means dinner with me and T’Pol most nights.”

“What if T’Pol has other plans?”

“I had no idea you only came for T’Pol’s company Commander,” Jon remarked.

Malcolm couldn’t quite hide his smirk.

“I meant,” Trip insisted. “Could you maybe invite some other officers then?”

Archer’s eyes lit in understanding and he cast his gaze over to where Malcolm was shooting Trip a look both horrified and annoyed.

“An excellent suggestion. A captain should certainly try to get to know his crew. As it happens T’Pol is spending tomorrow evening working on some meditation techniques with Hoshi. Perhaps you could join us instead lieutenant?”

Malcolm threw one last beseeching look to Trip, who just smiled unrepentantly back, before resigning himself to his fate.

“I’d be delighted sir.”

“Wonderful. I’ll see you both tomorrow then. Dismissed.”

Both officers turned and filed out of the room. Malcolm waited for the door to shut before slapping Trip’s arm.

“What was that for?”

“Trapping me into dinner with the captain.”

“Come on. Its better than a court martial isn’t it?”

This didn’t seem to mollify the lieutenant any and he started walking anxiously.

“What am I meant to talk to him about?”

“Uhm. Yourself? Don’t worry about it. Really. It’ll be fine. And I’ll be right there.”

Malcolm glared but it was clear the reassurance had helped.

“Well. I hope Hoshi appreciates her own evening with T’Pol.”

Trip shook his head in amusement.

“By the time this mission ends Starfleet will have to relax the anti-frat rules. Most of the crew look set to have hooked up by then anyhow.”

“At least in that case we won’t be alone in being dismissed from service.”

“If there’s one thing you never have to worry about again Mister Reed, its being alone.”

The smile that got him was worth any price Trip concluded.


	22. Fallen Hero

Tucker wasn’t really one for silences. It was different when he was working of course. If he was focused on an engineering problem then it could get so he didn’t even notice his company. Which was a part of the reason for his anxiety at present.

“It was real nice of Hoshi to invite us to dinner.”

T’Pol glanced sideways at him as they walked.

“It is entirely logical. Miss Sato enjoys cooking. This is why she had a hot plate installed in her quarters. Like all skills it requires practise. In the case of cooking it also requires an independent judgement. Hence our invite.”

“Yeah but independent judges could be anyone. It was nice of her to invite _us_.”

“It is merely a choice based on a recognition of trust and personal compatibility.”

Trip grinned.

“Always knew I had good taste. Glad Hoshi appreciates that.”

“I believe it is more your taste in partner than your appreciation of fine cuisine that has garnered your invite Commander.”

He blushed. T’Pol ignored him and rang the door chime. Seconds later it opened to reveal Malcolm relaxed in just a shirt and black jeans.

“Good evening Lieutenant. Is Miss Sato ready for us?”

“Yes. She’s just watching the cooking.”

T’Pol nodded and stepped past him. Malcolm’s eyes never left Trip. After a couple of seconds more silent waiting he prompted,

“Something wrong Commander? You’re almost as red as my shirt.”

“No! Nothing Lieutenant. You… ah… look good.”

Malcolm finally stepped back drawing Trip inside after him like a magnet. As soon as the door shut he leant in and gave him a quick chaste kiss.

“Why thank you,” he murmured. “You look… almost respectable.”

“You got something to say about my shirt?”

Malcolm moved back to look critically at it.

“Pineapples?” he queried.

“Thought you’d appreciate them.”

An eyeroll greeted this statement.

“Just because I like to eat them doesn’t mean I want to see you wearing them.”

“Really? You ain’t ever thought about me dressed in nothing but pineapple?”

Trip smirked as he saw Malcolm’s eyes darken. A throat clearing reminded him of their company and he glanced over to see T’Pol and Hoshi watching them – Hoshi with an amused smirk of her own.

“If you would take your seats,” T’Pol instructed. “The food is ready.”

Malcolm quickly complied and Trip languidly followed, drifting into the chair next to him. The small table meant his leg pressed naturally against the other man’s. He was actually distracted though by the warm aroma of fresh cooked food as the women laid their bowls down.

“Oh man. That smells good.” He inhaled deeply. “What is it?”

“Oden. My grandmother’s recipe.”

“I did suggest Hoshi prepare plomeek soup tonight however she believed this would appeal to your palette more.”

“I don’t believe I’ve heard of plomeek soup,” Malcolm commented as he tasted the broth warily.

“It’s a Vulcan dish,” Hoshi explained. “But I haven’t got the balance right yet.”

“You prepare the dish perfectly adequately given the provisions on board,” T’Pol countered causing Hoshi to smile.

“I know I can prepare a nutritious version suitable for Vulcans but humans would expect a bit more… flavour.”

Trip found himself smirking and focused on his bowl.

“Ah, yes,” T’Pol acknowledged. “I confess I do not understand humans’ preference for flavourful foods over nutritional alternatives.”

“I can see your point,” Malcolm agreed looking thoughtful. “Meals often take up far too much valuable time. There would be decided benefits to having all the proteins and vitamins we require in a pill.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

“Eating is not about fun Commander.” Malcolm winced and looked apologetic at the use of Trip’s title.

“But it can be fun,” Trip insisted, pushing against his leg a little harder.

“Eating is a social activity for humans,” Hoshi hastened to explain for T’Pol. “It’s a time where we bond over shared resources. Our ancient ancestors would have formed alliances based on such exchanges.”

T’Pol nodded.

“Vulcans too have similar cultural traditions from our past. For us they tend to involve sharing water or fruits.”

“I’m guessing you don’t have favourite foods then?” Trip queried.

“It would not be logical. We eat what we need to survive.”

“T’Pol is right,” Malcolm chimed in. “Basically we all eat because we _need_ to. Having a choice in what we eat is a luxury not everyone has.”

Trip looked rather disgruntled at that statement – or at Malcolm ignoring him, it was hard to tell.

“If I might make a personal comment Lieutenant?” T’Pol enquired, still carefully eating. He swallowed his mouthful and nodded cautiously. “You do not have the most consistent eating habits yourself.”

“That’s true,” Hoshi agreed a bit too quickly, as if this was an expected or even planned statement. “Sometimes you forget to eat at all. That’s not logical.”

Malcolm straightened and automatically lowered his spoon, forgetting about his food as he focused on the perceived attack.

“It’s perfectly logical,” he argued. “People only need to eat once a day – and not even that really. Ghandi once fasted 21 days-”

“Twenty-one days?” Trip interrupted. “You wouldn’t do that?”

“Of course not,” Malcolm scoffed and Trip relaxed before he added, “I barely made a week.”

“A week! Malcolm!”

“What?”

“You can’t be going a week without eating darling,” Trip begged in a clearly distressed tone.

“I don’t make a habit of it. It was just training.”

But Trip wasn’t done yet.

“You need to eat regularly. I don’t care if you can survive a week or a month without food – you never know when you might be stranded or if you’ll be called to fight. You have to keep your strength and stamina up.”

“And do you have a personal incentive for ensuring that?” Malcolm tried to tease but Trip was having none of it.

“Please Malcolm. Promise me you’ll eat properly. I can’t be with you all the time to make sure you do.”

Malcolm found himself caught in the imploring gaze and he relented.

“I’ll try Trip, I promise, but I don’t have the best track record in eating habits.”

Trip caught his hand and smiled as he placed a kiss to the back.

“Just as long as you try. Now how about you start by finishing this _odeng_ huh?”

Malcolm smiled and retrieved his spoon with his free hand to obey.

“Don’t worry Trip,” Hoshi added. “We’ll keep an eye on him too.”

“Certainly,” T’Pol added. “It makes sense to have our tactical officer in peak condition.”

“What is this? Gang up on Malcolm time?”

“We’re concerned about you,” Hoshi admitted.

“And we love you,” Trip added.

“You are a valuable part of the crew,” T’Pol concluded.

“Fine.” Malcolm would have thrown up his hands in surrender but one was still being held captive and the other had a spoonful of soup balanced in it. “Now can we please talk about something other than my eating disorder?”

“Certainly,” T’Pol smoothly agreed. “I am curious about the cultural significance of human sartorial choices.”

Hoshi quickly hid her laugh but it took the men a few more seconds to translate. When he did though Trip let go of Malcolm’s hand to rear back.

“Are you mocking my shirts now?”

T’Pol arched an eyebrow across at him.

“Curious,” she commented. “Your immediate assumption of mocking indicates a recognition of mistaken judgement. Would you care to elaborate?”

As Trip launched into a defence of his clothes, Malcolm shared a fond and grateful look with Hoshi.


	23. Desert Crossing

He wasn’t supposed to be there, Trip was sure of that, but equally it wasn’t at all surprising to see him.

“Commander.” The tone was formal and Malcolm was situated a good meter away, hands folded neatly behind his back but Trip knew exactly why that was. After all, he was feeling the exact same way and it certainly wasn’t animosity.

“Lieutenant,” he croaked.

A tiny frown creased Malcolm’s brow.

“How are you?” His eyes briskly surveyed him and the frown increased.

“Better,” Trip told him although his gravelly voice belied that. “Could do with some more water though.” He gestured to the empty jug at his bedside. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” Malcolm immediately took the jug to refill it. “I was surprised the doctor didn’t keep the captain in as well,” he commented deceptively mildly. The disapproving undercurrent was still readily apparent to Trip even as it confused him. Wasn’t Malcolm grateful the captain was in his quarters necessitating Phlox visit him? After all the lieutenant would hardly be able to risk a personal visit otherwise.

“Jon’s always handled dry heat better than me. He trounced me in our survival training.”

“Exactly.” Malcolm returned to the bedside visibly irritated now. “He knew you were susceptible to heat stroke but he still insisted you go with him to a desert planet.”

Despite his terse words his hands were steady as they filled the glass and handed it over. Trip took a grateful sip before replying.

“I think he just wanted to spend some time with me.”

“Wanted to keep us apart more like,” Malcolm huffed reaching out automatically to sweep Trip’s hair back into place. Trip closed his eyes and sighed at the contact. This was what he’d wanted – every moment they were apart and especially once returned to the ship – the calming touch of his soulmate.

Clearly it was also what Malcolm had been itching for even as he knew it was inappropriate. He seemed to remember that now as the hand was withdrawn and he made to step back to his previous safe distance. Trip was quick enough to catch his hand before he could retreat though.

“Malcolm,” he murmured helplessly.

It was enough to melt the lieutenant’s limited resistance and he settled into his natural place beside Trip.

“I thought we might have lost you,” he admitted. “I thought… I…”

“I know darling. I know. All the time on that planet, traipsing through the dirt an’ dust, the sun beatin’ down… the only thought keeping me going was you.”

Malcolm’s breath audibly hitched and he shakily brought Trip’s hand to his lips.

“Malcolm darlin’, I want us to be together. Properly.”

“Trip.” He rested his cheek against the hand secure in his and sighed softly. “You know we can’t. The captain-”

”I know that. But Malcolm, I want to _be_ with you. In a biblical sense.”

“Oh.” Malcolm looked back at him with such a vulnerable expression that Trip felt his heart would break. “I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”

“Oh.” Trip swallowed. “You don’t… want to? ‘cause that’s fine. I understand-”

“No. I don’t… not want to.” Malcolm’s blush matched Trip’s reddened skin as he stammered to explain. “Its just, well. This is all difficult enough and all we’ve done is _kissed_.”

“But that’s just it,” Trip enthused. “I don’t want to die without being with my soulmate. All the way.”

Malcolm smiled and reached out to stroke his dry and tender cheek with a feather like touch.

“I think a better idea would be to focus on _not_ dying,” he suggested.

“Well of course.” Trip huffed and was about to continue when a gentle finger landed against his lips. He looked up inquisitively as Malcolm sighed again.

“Trip, you must have heard the theories about soulmates? Starfleet have an entire lecture on why they’re not allowed to serve together.”

The finger fell away.

“Yeah,” he agreed hesitantly, not wanting to dwell on that.

“Soulmates meeting are attracted,” Malcolm carried on regardless. “But soulmates mating are bonded. And that bond is stronger than any other sworn loyalty.”

“Its just a saying,” Trip objected.

“Is it?” he was immediately challenged. “When we first met I was attracted to you but not so much I couldn’t ignore it.” He considerately didn’t remind Trip that he’d also had no problem ignoring the attraction. “After you kissed me though-”

“As I remember it _you_ kissed _me_ ,” Trip pointed out smugly.

“After _we_ kissed,” Malcolm continued determinedly, “I don’t believe I could have ignored you again. I find it hard enough not to engage in physical contact.” He squeezed their conjoined hands for emphasis. “Given that the captain has ordered us to be discrete, I don’t think we can risk getting any more intimate at present.”

Trip frowned unhappily, recognising it to be true but still feeling that desperate desire to possess Malcolm. To claim him so there would be no risk of losing him ever again. To have him. To hold him. To…

He looked up suddenly.

“Marry me.”

It took a full couple of seconds for the proposal to register with Malcolm.

“What?”

“Marry me,” Trip repeated.

“Trip… isn’t that a bit sudden?”

“Mal, we’re _soulmates_. In a lot of cultures that’s considered to already represent an engagement. And it took me long enough to realise it so if anything we’ve gone especially slow.”

“You haven’t even got me a ring.”

“I’ll make you one. Soon as I get back to engineering. I’ll use some metal from a weapon casing. How about that?”

“I could hardly wear it in public. We’re meant to be being discrete.”

“Then don’t. Wear it in private. Or on a chain.”

As Malcolm appeared to cast around for another objection Trip clasped his marked hand in both of his.

“Malcolm, I love you. I want to marry you just as soon as we can. And by the way you ain’t exactly said ‘no’, I’m thinkin’ you want the same.”

Malcolm finally focused his gaze on Trip’s earnest face.

“Of course I do.”

Trip couldn’t help his excited grin.

“Then say yes,” he prompted.

Malcolm broke out into a smile of unadulterated happiness as he obeyed.

“Yes, Trip. Yes I will marry you.”

Trip found Malcolm’s free hand, pulling him into a much appreciated kiss with his soulmate. His fiancé.

“I love you,” he muttered softly against smiling lips.

“We still have to be discrete,” Malcolm reminded him, nevertheless not moving further away and simply letting their foreheads rest together.

“I know,” Trip sighed. “But you’re gonna be mine.”

“Just as you’ll be mine.”

“I like the sound of that.”

He wanted to stay like that forever. He wanted to pull Malcolm with him onto the biobed just so he could continue holding him close. He wanted to wake up looking at the beloved face. He wanted to get their commitment authorised just as soon as they could get out of here.

He wanted to know how he had ever believed he could live without this man.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

Malcolm laughed softly and pulled back to look at him.

“It isn’t a case of _deserve_. But… you make my life better Trip. You… give it colour.”

“And you’ve made me a better man Malcolm. ‘cause I want to be the best possible for you.”

“I just want you to be you.”

The doors opening behind them broke their moment and Malcolm quickly clasped his treacherous hands behind his back again.

“Lieutenant,” Phlox queried curiously. “Checking on the patient?”

“Just trying to determine who should be covering engineering tomorrow.” He began to retreat. “I’ll let you rest Commander. Sleep well my friend.”

“You too Lieutenant.”

As Phlox’s eyes watched Malcolm leaving Trip quickly blew him a kiss and caught a bright happy smile in return.

“Sweet dreams indeed,” he whispered to himself.


	24. Two Days And Two Nights

Trip had been disappointed at the captain’s orders but he’d still believed he and Malcolm would have a proper romantic break. He’d spent so long planning it and then convincing Malcolm it was a good idea – he was unsure what more he could have done to save their holiday.

He thought back to when he’d first proposed it to the tactical officer, caught briefly in a blessedly deserted corridor. Perhaps his caution had been well founded but Trip had been so desperate for some more intimacy that he hadn’t listened. Although, he reflected, the plan had to have been sound else Malcolm would never have agreed.

Archer had ordered them to play the field. Or at least to be seen at a bar drinking and flirting. He made it clear that if he heard reports of them trying to broaden their cultural horizons then he wouldn’t enquire any further as to what they got up to.

So Trip had booked them into a nice hotel with a local bar and convinced Malcolm that they should spend a couple of hours there, chat up some nice looking girls, escort them out and then gracefully extricate themselves before disappearing for some alone time.

Malcolm had wanted to be included in sorting the arrangements but Trip had been determined to make it a surprise. And given they weren’t meant to be lingering together it really was only sensible for one of them to do the booking. He had planned on spoiling his fiancé and that meant he wasn’t to be stressed about the organisation.

Which was probably where he had gone wrong. Reed was so much better at strategic arrangements. And certainly he’d have checked the crime statistics for the area. But how was Trip to know this was a regular hot spot for tourist muggings?

Though maybe if he hadn’t been so nervous, overly anxious about getting Malcolm relaxed, and had held back on the cocktails they wouldn’t be in this predicament.

“I’m sorry,” he said again regardless.

Malcolm shifted against his restraints but otherwise didn’t answer. He’d made his irritation perfectly plain when they’d regained consciousness after the night spent in this basement. Apologies clearly weren’t going to work so Trip changed tacks.

“Not how I imagined the first time I got you nearly naked and tied up.”

“If you ever thought you’re getting me tied up you better think again,” Malcolm snapped and unseen Trip grinned. It might be angry but at least he was talking to him again.

“What about you getting me tied up?” he suggested casually and Malcolm fidgeted, less in irritation now.

“After this I think it’s the least you’ll owe me.”

“I really am sorry Malcolm,” Trip tried again. “If it makes you feel any better I’ve lost a lot of credits in deposits for today.”

“Deposits for what?”

“Well, that nice hotel room for starters. Did you see the size of the bed? And the hot tub?”

“You shouldn’t have booked such an extravagant room,” he was admonished without much venom. Trip suspected Malcolm had liked the thought of it too.

“I wanted the trip to be special. Its our first holiday together.”

“Its certainly a holiday I won’t be forgetting.”

Trip fell silent, ruminating on how everything seemed to go wrong for them – usually because he was an idiot. Malcolm wriggled clearly trying to ease the pressure on his arms. It was really not the scenario for how Trip had hoped they might be feeling sore and tired today.

“What else?”

Malcolm’s voice distracted him from his wallowing and he twisted about in confusion.

“Huh?”

“You said the hotel room was ‘for a start’. What else did you have booked?” Malcolm’s tone was quiet but Trip couldn’t tell if he was simply resigned to having to pass the time like this or actually interested.

“Breakfast in bed,” he answered. “I asked them to bring up a bit of everything.”

“Bet they wouldn’t have had proper English Breakfast tea,” Malcolm sniffed and Trip felt a surge of pride at having anticipated this particular wish.

“No,” he agreed. “They didn’t know what peanut butter was neither.”

Malcolm huffed again but Trip took his silence this time as an invite to continue.

“I had masseuses booked for this morning too.”

“I’m certainly sorry we’re missing those.” He moved around until he came to rest with his arm against Trip’s. The warmth spread a deep comfort through him.

“Thought we’d be taking a stroll through the market this afternoon. You know. Together.”

That encouraged a laugh in response.

“I’d rather assumed we’d be doing most of these activities together.”

“Yeah, course. I just meant… not having to hide ourselves. You know?”

“Yes Trip. I know.” He sighed.

Trip leant his head over and was heartened to feel Malcolm immediately rest his against it.

“And,” he added, swallowing hard, “I read they got a pretty little chapel down here. A spitting image for those we got back home.”

He could feel the sudden tension and was relieved when the other man didn’t pull away.

“You were planning on us getting married here?”

Trip wished he could recognise more emotional clues from the clipped voice but it was difficult without seeing the associated body language.

“I was going to ask you,” he answered hesitantly.

“Does that mean you got me a ring?”

“Yeah. Though… it was in my jacket.” He grimaced to himself as he thought of the shapeshifting aliens probably currently riffling through the pockets. They wouldn’t appreciate the real value of that ring.

There was a long pause before Malcolm spoke again.

“I’d probably have said yes,” he offered. “It all sounds dreadfully romantic.”

“That’s what I was going for darling.”

“But,” Malcolm halted his happy enthusiasm. “I think we’d have regretted it.”

“I’d never regret marrying you Malcolm.” Trip contorted himself to meet his eyes, needing him to see the sincerity in his own. Malcolm twisted too to look at him.

“I know that,” he assured. “But we wouldn’t be able to share the event with anyone. No-one in Starfleet could find out. And I’m sure this isn’t how you would have envisaged your big day. Wouldn’t you want your family there? Your friends?”

“I guess so,” Trip agreed even as his heart sunk.

“When we get back,” Malcolm suggested, “we’ll start planning it. And when we do it we’re going to do it properly. Alright? I’ll even tell my parents about you.”

His faint grimace told Trip how much he didn’t relish the thought of that conversation.

“I’ll do it with you if you like,” he offered.

“Its really something I’m better doing alone. I don’t want you to have to deal with any of that.”

“Hey. If we’re getting married we’re dealing with things together.” He saw Malcolm’s hesitance and relented. “How about you call your parents and then join me to tell mine? They’ll be thrilled and so excited to meet you.”

“If you think it’s a good idea.” His doubt about that was clearly evident.

“Absolutely,” Trip avowed confidently. “Wish we could tell them straight away.”

A dismissive snort met this hopeful statement.

“Your parents might not feel obligated to report it to HQ but mine certainly would.”

“Well we ain’t telling anyone if we don’t get out of here,” Trip redirected the conversation away from the touchy subject of Reed senior.

“I don’t know about you but I have no intention of letting the captain find us like this.”

Trip hoisted himself up straighter at the determined tone.

“You got a plan?”

“I do. While you were grovelling earlier, I noted some bottles over in that corner. I think you’ll be able to knock some nearer if you stretch your legs.”

“Got it.” Trip began shuffling. “So we use the glass to cut the bonds and then we can pick up our plans?” he suggested hopefully.

“Then,” Malcolm said insistently. “I’ll want a hot shower, a long nap, and possibly to see if that massage can be rearranged.”

“Dinner together though?”

Malcolm glanced down at him as he tried to grab a rolling bottle with his feet.

“Oh I never said I’d be doing those things alone.”


	25. Shockwave

The nausea was both unexpected and entirely unsurprising.

Mal had been right. After their night together (the second night away, not the first ruined attempt) having to go separate ways aboard ship was gut wrenching. And that had been before Trip had to authorise Malcolm getting beaten up by Suliban.

So seeing him now, flinching from the doctor’s treatments in sickbay, eye swollen and lip bleeding, was it any wonder Trip’s stomach was roiling?

“Lieutenant.” He tried to keep his tone level but it was hopeless. Especially when Malcolm cast a desperate look his way. “Darling.”

He was across the room and hugging him tight without even considering the possibility that it might be the wrong thing to do.

“Ugh… Trip… that’s…”

He immediately let go at the cry of pain but stayed close, resting his hands lightly on sore shoulders.

“Shit. Sorry. Didn’t think.”

A brisk cough reminded him that they weren’t alone and he glanced over to see Phlox watching them closely.

“While I hate to interrupt this bonding ritual, I do still need to treat Lieutenant Reed’s bruises.” He held up a small jar for emphasis.

“I’ll do it,” Trip volunteered before remembering himself and looking back to Malcolm. “I mean… if you don’t…”

“I rather think its your responsibility now,” Malcolm answered then amending quickly, “Given you just aggravated my injuries.”

Trip couldn’t stop a distraught look crossing his face but tried to hide it by examining the instructions on the cream the doctor had passed him. A hand landing on his cheek drew his gaze back.

“This wasn’t your fault Trip,” he was told softly.

“I know. I know you had to do this. I know its those Suliban bastard’s fault. But in here…” He moved Malcolm’s hand onto his heart. “It hurts.”

Malcolm sighed gently, spreading his fingers and staring at the pattern that seemed to depict the beat he felt.

“This is the life we chose,” he reminded him. “No-one said it would be easy.”

“But it don’t gotta be this hard. All this sneaking about, pretending I don’t want to spend every goddamn minute with you, I just can’t do it Mal. I don’t care about the consequences. I’m not going to let rules and regulations determine who I get to love and when. I already nearly lost you once by sticking to some idealised idea of what I thought love should be. I’m not risking that again.”

He expected an objection. A reminder of what they both agreed to when they signed up. What he did not expect was for Malcolm to simply lean forward and press his face into Trip’s shoulder until the engineer wrapped his arms around him again, more gently this time.

“I agree.”

“You do?” He felt Malcolm nod against him.

“The mission’s probably over anyway,” Malcolm muttered, letting his own arms rest about Trip’s waist.

Neither man made any effort to move apart as the doors slid open behind them. Trip wasn’t even sure he _could_ , with Malcolm so weary and weak against him.

“Is this you two being discrete?”

Trip noted the amused tone to Jon’s voice and decided he could risk a little insubordination even as Malcolm began carefully extricating himself.

“Lay off. We’ve had a hell of a day. I think we’ve earned this.”

“You’re probably right.” Archer glanced over them both, his gaze lingering on the lieutenant’s still very visible injuries. “I heard about what happened. The ruse to get that device to Silik.”

“We did what had to be done,” Reed dutifully replied.

“You went above and beyond,” Jon countered. “And not only that,” he locked eyes with Trip. “You proved soulmates can serve together and still put the good of the mission first.”

Trip reached out and clasped Malcolm’s hand tight in his, glad that at least it hadn’t suffered too badly.

“Doubt it’ll make any difference now,” he remarked. “Soval’s gonna argue we should be docked for the foreseeable. But Malcolm and I aren’t planning on hiding anymore. Starfleet can take us as a pair or we’ll take our services elsewhere.”

Jon couldn’t hide his smile, especially at Malcolm’s blush even as he continued to hold onto Trip’s hand.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about us being docked. Admiral Forrest is on our side after we proved the tragedy at Paraagan II wasn’t our fault. And T’Pol is sure the Vulcan High Command can have no logical reason to halt our mission.”

Trip shared a look with Malcolm, worried about what a continued mission might mean. It was one thing for Malcolm to flaunt the rules when they were being grounded anyway, another when he had a chance of serving on Earth’s first flagship and proving his father wrong.

“We go together or not at all,” Malcolm answered the unspoken query. Trip turned back to the captain.

“Sorry Jon. Looks like you may need a new engineer and tactical officer.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that either.” Archer surveyed them thoughtfully. “I’m willing to put my own position on the line for you two. For the principle of it. We’ve been out here nearly a year and there’s been no issue with you working together. Not even when things got ugly.” He quirked a smile at Reed. “No offence.”

“None taken sir,” Malcolm replied, slightly stunned by the declaration of support.

“We all knew this was a lot of trial and error,” Archer continued. “I think Starfleet will back down over this rather than look for three new commanding officers.”

“I believe you will find you have more support than that,” Phlox interrupted. “I know Sub Commander T’Pol sees no logic in the regulation and I’d be willing to argue it is possibly even detrimental from a medical point of view.”

Malcolm cast a grateful smile his way and Trip positively beamed.

“You really think you’ll be able to convince Command?” he asked Jon with a hopefully lilt.

“I think we have a very good chance. I’m not sure you realise just what a symbolic action you took today. No-one could argue soulmates would always put themselves first after that.”

“I just hope I never have to do it again,” Trip stated emphatically.

“You and me both Commander,” Malcolm drawled.

Trip leant in for a quick kiss, thrilled beyond measure to do so in front of witnesses for once. Doubly so when it was reciprocated.

“The rules haven’t been amended yet Commander,” Jon said teasingly and Trip grinned back at him.

“Guess you’ll have to reprimand me then.”

Archer rolled his eyes.

“I expect you both to be presentable and on the bridge by the time we have to present our case to the powers that be.”

“Yes sir,” Reed answered promptly despite letting Trip slink his arm back around him.

“Hey captain?” Trip called before Archer could leave. He turned and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him. “How’d you feel about performing the first deep space human wedding?”

The request clearly surprised Archer but then his face lit up with genuine happiness.

“I’d be delighted, he informed them before continuing on his way with a spring in his step.

“Trip.” Malcolm’s tone was admonishing. “It wouldn’t be the first human wedding in deep space. The crew of cargo ships-”

He was silenced by the simple expedient of Trip kissing him and it took Reed a few seconds to recall himself.

“Trip,” he whined. “We have to get to the bridge.”

“In a minute. I still gotta treat your bruises ain’t I?” He waggled the pot enticingly. Malcolm narrowed his eyes.

“You’re a bad influence you know.”

Trip leant in to tenderly kiss a particularly vivid bruise on Malcolm’s neck.

“I love you too darling.” He pulled back and began to studiously apply the ointment. After a few moments silence Malcolm relented.

“I love you too.”


	26. Epilogue

They didn’t get married on board ship in the end.

Malcolm had bitten the proverbial bullet and contacted his father, taking the tactical decision to not actually introduce Trip but simply tell Admiral Reed that he was engaged to a Commander Charles Tucker the Third. He avoided any mention of soulmarks and was rewarded by his father reluctantly agreeing the match didn’t sound too bad. It was as much as he could have hoped for.

Telling Trip’s folk proved much more surprising. Nothing could have prepared him for the unadulterated outpouring of happiness they expressed and he found himself pressing closer to his fiancé. Trip easily answered quick fire questions and tried to direct the chatter but even he found himself cornered into a proper local wedding at his parent’s Florida home.

Which was how they found themselves, surrounded by a wide array of family and friends, stood on a picture perfect Florida beach reciting their vows before Captain Archer. Trip had his eldest brother as best man and Malcolm had declared Hoshi as his ‘second’. They also had to host an assortment of Starfleet officials keen to show themselves as moving with the times, all of whom declared they’d always supported the notion of soulmates serving together.

Tears were shed (by the Tuckers) and disappointment expressed (by the Reeds) which, to everyone’s surprise, was rebuffed by Madeline and T’Pol. Admiral and Mrs Reed left shortly after and the party then enthusiastically commenced, led by a rather exuberant Denobulan.

Starfleet being what it was they didn’t actually get a honeymoon – “lucky to get a wedding night” Trip had snorted – before they were back on board and off for the second year of their continuing mission.

“So Lieutenant.” Archer turned to face the tactical station, his eye caught briefly by the glint of metal shining round the officer’s ring finger. “Are the new torpedoes all secured?”

“All in place and locked down sir.”

Archer looked past Reed to see that his chief engineer, who was supposed to be monitoring the warp matrix, was instead resting his chin on his hand where an identical ring was settled and watching the lieutenant fondly.

“Commander Tucker? Is the warp field holding steady?”

Trip gave him a bashful apologetic look before focusing again on his screen.

“As a heart beat,” he confirmed.

“Glad to hear it.” Archer returned to the captain’s chair, a smile pulling at his own lips. Once sat again he addressed the crew.

“I know this isn’t the start of our mission – we’ve been out here a year after all – but it _feels_ like the start. We’ve found our feet now. We know, more or less, what we’re getting ourselves into. And we know its not going to be easy but we’re going to persevere anyway.” He smiled and glanced across to his old friend and his new husband, both radiating solid dedication.

“Because, while you can’t stop the waves, you can learn to surf.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to Jon Kabat-Zinn for the quote "You can't stop the waves, but you can learn to surf."
> 
> I want to thank everyone who's read this far and especially everyone who's given a kudos or comment. There's definitely a possibility for a sequel.


End file.
